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SREATURES “THAT 
ONCE WERE MEN 


By 


MAXIM GORKY 


Translated from the Russian by 
J. K. M. SHIRAZI 


With Introductory by 
G. K. CHESTERTON. 


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1906 


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INTRODUCTORY. 


By G. K. CHESTERTON. 


Ir is certainly a curious fact that so many of the 
voices of what is called our modern religion have 
come from countries which are not only simple, but 
may even be called barbaric. A nation like Norway has 
a great realistic drama without having ever had either 
a great classical drama or a great romantic drama. A 
nation like Russia makes us feel its modern fiction 
when we have never felt its ancient fiction. It has 
produced its Gissing without producing its Scott. 
Everything that is most sad and scientific, everything 
that is most grim and analytical, evervthing that can 
truly be called ‘most modern, everything that can 
without unreasonableness be called most morbid, 
comes from these fresh and untried and unexhausted 
nationalities. Out of these infant peoples come the 

¥ 

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Introductory. 


oldest voices of the earth. This contradiction, like : 
many other contradictions, is one which ought first of * 
all to be registered as a mere fact; long before we ‘ 
attempt to explain why things contradict themselves, : 
we ought, if we are honest men and good critics, 
to register the preliminary truth that things do 
contradict themselves. In this case, as I say, 
there are many possible and suggestive explanations. 
It may be, to take an example, that our modern 
Europe is so exhausted that.even the vigorous expres- 
sion of that exhaustion is difficult for every one - 
except the most robust. It may be that all the nations 
are tired; and it may be that only the boldest 
and breeziest are not too tired to say that they are 
tired. It may be that a man like Ibsen in 
Norway or a man like Gorky in Russia are the only 
people left who have so much faith that they can 
really believe in scepticism. It may™be that they 
are the only people left who have so much animal 
spirits that they can really feast high and drink deep 
at the ancient banquet of pessimism. This is one of 
the possible hypotheses or explanations in the matter : 


Vl 


Introductory. 


that all Europe feels these things and that they 
only have strength to believe them also. Many 
other explanations might, however, also be offered. It 
might be suggested that half-barbaric countries like 
Russia or Norway, which have always lain, to say 
the least of it, on the extreme edge of the circle 
of our European civilisation, have a certain primal 
melancholy which belongs to them through all the 
ages. It is highly probable that this sadness, which 
to us is modern, is to them eternal. It is highly 
probable that what we have solemnly and suddenly 
discovered in scientific text-books and ‘philosophical. 
magazines they absorbed and experienced thousands 
of years ago, when they offered human sacrifice in 
black and cruel forests and cried to their gods in the 
dark. Their agnosticism is perhaps merely paganism ; 
their paganism, as iv old times, is merely devil- 
worship. Certainly, Schopenhauer could hardly have 
written his hideous essay on women except in a 
country which had once been full of slavery and the 
‘service of fiends. It may be that these moderns are 
tricking us altogether, and are hiding in their current 


Vil 


Introductory. 


scientific jargon things that they knew before science 
or civilisation were. They say that they are deter-— 
minists; but the truth is, probably, that they are still 
worshipping the Norns. They say that they describe 
scenes which are sickening and dehumanising in the 
name of art or in the name of truth; but it may be 
that they do it in the name of some deity indescribable, 
whom they propitiated with blood and terror before 
the beginning of history. 

This hypothesis, like the hypothesis mentioned 
before it, 1s highly disputable, and is at best a 
suggestion. But there is one broad truth in the 
matter which may in any case be considered as 
established. A country like Russia has far more 
inherent capacity for producing revolution in revolu- 
tionists than any country of the type of England or 
America. Communities highly civilised and largely 
urban tend to a thing which is now called evolution, 
the most cautious and the most conservative of all 
social influences. The loyal Russian obeys the Czar 
because he remembers the Czar and the Czar’s 
importance. The disloyal Russian frets against the 


Vili 


Introductory. 


Czar because he also remembers the Czar, and makes 
a note of the necessity of knifing him. But the loyal 
Englishman obeys the upper elasses because he has 
forgotten that they are there. Their operation has 
become to him like daylight, or gravitation, or any 
of the forces of nature. And there are no disloyal 
Englishmen; there are no English revolutionists, 
because the oligarchic management of England is so 
‘complete as to be invisible. The thing which can 
once get itself forgotten can make itself omnipotent. 
Gorky is pre-eminently Russian, in that he is a 
revolutionist ; not because most Russians are revolu- 
tionists (for I imagine that they are not), but because 
most Russians—indeed, nearly all Russians—are in 
that attitude of mind which makes revolution possible 
and which makes religion possible, an attitude of 
primary and dogmatic assertion. To be a revolu- 
tionist it is first necessary to be a revelationist. It 
is necessary to believe in the sufficiency of some 
theory of the universe or the State. But in countries 
that have come under the influence of what is called 
the evolutionary idea, there has been no dramatic 


1X 


Introductory. 


righting of wrongs, and (unless the evolutionary idea 
loses its hold) there never will be. These countries 
have no revolution, they have to put up with an 
inferior and largely fictitious thing which they call 
progress. | 

The interest of the Gorky tale, like the interest of 
so many other Russian masterpieces, consists in this 
sharp contact between a simplicity, which we in the 
West feel to be very old, and a rebelliousness which 
we in the West feel to be very new. We cannot 
in our graduated and polite civilisation quite make 
head or tail of the Russian anarch; we can only feel 
in a vague way that his tale is the tale of the Missing 
Link, and that his head is the head of the superman. 
We hear his lonely cry of anger. But we cannot be 
quite certain whether his protest is the protest of the 
first anarchist against government, or whether it is 
the protest of the last savage against civilisation. The 
cruelty of ages and of political cynicism or necessity 
has done much to burden the race of which Gorky 
writes ; but time has left them one thing which it has 
not left to the people in Poplar or West Ham. It has 


Xx 


Introductory. 


left them, apparently, the clear and childlike power of 
seeing the cruelty which encompasses them. Gorky 
is a tramp, a man of the people, and also a critic and 
a bitter one. In the West poor men, when they 
become articulate in literature, are always sentimen- 
talists and nearly always optimists. | 
It is no exaggeration to say that these people of 
whom Gorky writes in such a story as this of ‘‘ Crea- 
tures that once were Men” are to the Western mind 
children. They have, indeed, been tortured and 
broken by experience and sin. But this has only 
sufficed to make them sad children or naughty children 
or bewildered children. They have absolutely no trace 
of that quality upon which secure government rests 
so largely in Western Europe, the quality of being 
soothed by long words as if by an incantation. 
They do not call hunger ‘“‘ economic pressure” ; they 
call it hunger. They do not call rich men ‘‘ examples 
of capitalistic concentration,” they call them rich 
men. And this note of plainness and of something 
nobly prosaic is as characteristic of Gorky, the most 
recent and in some ways the most modern and 


X1 


Introductory. 


sophisticated of Russian authors, as it is of Tolstoy 
or any of the Tolstoyan type of mind. ‘The very 
title of this story strikes the note of this sudden and 
simple vision. The philanthropist writing, long 
letters to the Daily Telegraph says, of men living in ~ 
a slum, that “‘ their degeneration is of such a kind as 
almost to pass the limits of the semblance of human- 
ity,” and we read the whole thing with a tepid assent 
as we should read phrases about the virtues of Queen : 
Victoria or the dignity of the House of Commons. 
The Russian novelist, when he describes a dosshouse, 
says, ‘‘Creatures that once were Men.” And we 
are arrested, and regard the facts as a kind of: 
terrible fairy tale. This story is a test case 
of the Russian manner, for it is in itself a study of 
decay, a study of failure, and a study of old age. 
And yet the author is forced to write even of stale- 
ness freshly ; and though he is treating of the world 
as seen by eyes darkened or blood-shot with evil 
experience, his own eyes look out upon the scene with 
a clarity that is almost babyish. Through all runs 
that curious Russian sense that every man is only a 


Xli 


Introductory. 


man, which, if the Russians ever are a democracy, 
will make them the most democratic democracy that 
the world has ever seen. ‘Take this passage, for 
instance, from the austere conclusion of ‘* Creatures | 


. that once were Men.”’ 


Petunikoff smiled the smile of the conqueror and went back 
into the dosshouse, but suddenly he stopped and trembled. At the 
door facing him stood an old man with a stick in his hand and a 
large bag on his back, a horrible old man in rags and tatters, 
which covered his bony figure. He bent under the weight of his 
burden, and lowered his head on his breast, as if he wished to 
attack the merchant. 

** What are you?’ Who are you?” shouted Petunikoff. 

“Aman .. .” he answered, in a hoarse voice. This hoarseness 
pleased and tranquillised Petunikoff, he even smiled. 

“A man! And are there really men like you?” Stepping 
aside he let the old man pass. He went, saying slowly : 

“Men are of various kinds . . . as God wills . . . There are 


worse than me .. . still worse... Yes >. .” 


Here, in the very act of describing a kind of a fall 
from humanity, Gorky expresses a sense of the 
strangeness and essential value of the human being 
which is far too commonly absent altogether from such 
complex civilisations as our own. ‘To no Western, I 


Xull 


Introductory. 


am afraid, would it occur when asked what he was to 
say, ‘‘ A man.” He would be a plasterer who had 
walked from Reading, or an iron-puddler who had 
been thrown out of work in Lancashire, or a University 
man who would be really most grateful for the loan 
of five shillings, or the son of a lieutenant-general 
living in Brighton, who would not have made such 
an application if he had not known that he was 
talking to another gentleman. With us it is not a 
question of men being of various kinds; with us 
the kinds are almost different animals. But in spite 
of all Gorky’s superficial scepticism and brutality, 
it is to him the fall from humanity, or the apparent 
fall from humanity, which is not merely great and 
lamentable, but essential and even mystical. The 
line between man and the beasts is one of the trans- 
-cendental essentials of every religion; and it is, like 
_ most of the transcendental things of religion, identi- 
cal with the main sentiments of the man of common. 
sense. We feel this gulf when theologies say that 
it cannot be crossed. But we feel it quite as much 
(and that with a primal shudder) when philosophers 


X1V 


a 
a 


Introductory. 

or fanciful writers suggest that it might be crossed. 
And if any man wishes to diseoyer whether or no he 
has really learnt to regard the line between man and 
brute as merely relative and evolutionary, let him say 


again to himself ‘those frightful ivords, ‘‘ Creatures 
that once were Men.” | 


G. K. CHESTERTON. 





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WANE Wes ey 
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19) ot 


Creatures that once 
were Men. 








PART I. 


In front of you is the main street, with two rows of 
miserable looking huts with shuttered windows and old 
walls pressing on each other and leaning forward. The 
roofs of these time-worn habitations are full of holes, and 
have been patched here and there with laths; from under- 
neath them project mildewed beams, which are shaded by 
the dusty-leaved elder-trees and crooked white willows— 
pitiable flora of those suburbs inhabited by the poor. 

The dull green time-stained panes of: the windows look 
upon each other with the cowardly glances of cheats. 
Through the street and towards the, adjacent mountain, 
runs the sinuous path, winding through the deep ditches 
filled with rain-water. Here and there are piled heaps of 
dust and other rubbish—either refuse or else put there 
purposely to keep the rain-water from flooding the houses. 
On the top of the mountain, among green gardens with 

I B 


Creatures that once were Men. 


dense fol: age, beautifal : stone houses lie hidden; the 
belfries of . the. churches rise ‘proudly towards the sky, and 
their witddd : Gtosses ‘shirie ‘béneath the rays of the sun. 
During the rainy weather the neighbouring town pours its 
water into this main road, which, at other times, is full of 
its dust, and all these miserable houses seem, as it were, 
thrown by some powerful hand into that heap of dust, 
rubbish, and rain-water. They cling to the ground 
beneath the high mountain, exposed to the sun, surrounded 
by decaying refuse, and their sodden appearance impresses 
one with the same feeling as would the half-rotten trunk of 
an old tree. 

At the end of the main street, as if thrown out of the 
town, stood a two-storied house, which had been rented 
from Petunikoff, a merchant and resident of the town. It 
was in comparatively good order, being further from the 
mountain, while near it were the open fields, and about 
half-a-mile away the river ran its winding course. , 

This large old house had the most dismal aspect amidst 
its surroundings. The walls bent outwards and there was 
hardly a pane of glass in any of the windows, except some 
of the fragments which looked like the water of the marshes 
—dull green. The spaces of wall between the windows 
were covered with spots, as if time were trying to write 
there in hieroglyphics the history of the old house, and 
the tottering roof added still more to its pitiable condition. 
It seemed as if the whole building bent towards the ground, 
to await the last stroke of that fate which should trans- 
form it into a chaos of rotting remains, and finally into dust. 

2 


a, 


Creatures that once were Men. 


The gates were open, one half of them displaced and 
lying on the ground at the entrance, while between its 
bars had grown the grass, which also covered the large 
and empty court-yard. In the depths of this yard stood a 
low, iron-roofed, smoke-begrimed building. The house 
itself was of course unoccupied, but this shed, formerly a 
blacksmith’s forge, was now turned into a “ dosshouse,”’ 
kept by a'retired Captain named Aristid Fomich Kuvalda. 

In the interior of the dosshouse was a long, wide and 
grimy board, measuring some 28 by 70 feet. The room 
was lighted on one side by four small square windows, 
and on the other by a wide door. The unpainted brick 
walls were black with smoke, and the ceiling, which was 
built of timber, was almost black. In the middle stood a 
large stove, the furnace of which served as its foundation, 
and around this stove and along the walls were also long, 
wide boards, which served as beds for the lodgers. The 
walls smelt of smoke, the earthen floor of dampness, and 
the long wide board of rotting rags. 

The place of the proprietor was on the top of the stove, 
while the boards surrounding it were intended for those 
who were on good terms with the owner and who were 
honoured by his friendship. During the day the captain 
passed most of his time sitting on a kind of bench, made. 
by himself by placing bricks against the wall of the court- 
yard, or else in the eating house of Egor Vavilovitch, which | 
was opposite the house, where he took all his meals and 
where he also drank vodki. 

Before renting this house, Aristid Kuvalda had kept a 

3 B 2 


Creatures that once were Men. 


registry office for servants in the town. If we look further 
back into his former life, we shall find that he once owned | 
printing works, and previous to this, in his own words, he 
“just lived! And lived well too, Devil take it, and like 
one who knew how!” 

He was a tall, broad-shouldered man of fifty, with a raw- 
looking face, swollen with drunkenness, and with a dirty 
yellowish beard. His eyes were large and grey, with an 
insolent expression of happiness. He spoke in a bass 
voice and with a sort of grumbling sound in his throat, 
and he almost always held between his teeth a German — 
china pipe with a long bowl. When he was angry the 
nostrils of his big crooked red nose swelled, and his lips 
trembled, exposing to view two rows of large and wolf-like 
yellow teeth. He had long arms, was lame, and always 
dressed in an old officer’s uniform, with a dirty, greasy cap 
with a red band, a hat without a brim, and ragged felt 
boots which reached almost to his knees. “In the morning, 
as a rule, he had a heavy drunken headache, and in the 
evening he caroused. However much he drank, he was 
never drunk, and so was always merry. 

In the evenings he received lodgers, sitting on his~brick- 
made bench with his pipe in his mouth. 

“Whom have we here?” he would ask the ragged and 
tattered object approaching him, who had probably been 
chucked out of the town for drunkenness, or perhaps for 
some other reason not quite so simple. And after the man 
had answered him, he would say, “‘ Let me see legal papers 
in confirmation of your lies.” And if there were such 


4 


Creatures that once were Men. 


papers they were shown. The Captain would then put 
them in his bosom, seldom taking any interest in them, 
and would say : 

“Hiverything is in order. Two kopecks for the night, 
ten kopecks for the week, and thirty kopecks for the 
month. Go and get a place for yourself, and see that it 
is not other people’s, or else they will blowyou up. The 
people that live here are particular.” 

** Don’t you sell tea, bread, or anything to eat?” 

“TI trade only in walls and roofs, for which I pay to the 
swindling proprietor of this hole— Judas Petunikoff, 
merchant of the second guild—five roubles a month,” 
explained Kuvalda in a business-like tone. ‘“ Only those 
come to me who are not accustomed to comfort and luxuries 
‘ . but if you are accustomed to eat every day, 
then there is the eating-house opposite. But it would be 
better for you if you left off that habit. You see you are 
not a gentleman. What do you eat? You eat yourself!” 

For such speeches, delivered in a strictly business-like 
manner, and always with smiling eyes, and also for the 
attention he paid to his lodgers the Captain was very 
‘popular among the poor of the town. It very often 
happened that a former client of his would appear, not 
in rags, but in something more respectable and with a 
slightly happier face. 

“ Good-day, your honour, and how do you do?” 

** Alive, in good health! Go on.” 

“ Don’t you know me?” 

 T did not know you.” 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“ Do you remember that I lived with you last winter for 
nearly a month. . . . when the fight with the police 
took place, and three were taken away ?”’ 

“‘ My brother, that is so. The police do come even under 
my hospitable roof!” 

“My God! You gave a piece of your mind to the police 
inspector of this district!” | 

“ Wouldn’t you accept some small hospitality from me ? 
When I lived with you, you were...” | 

“Gratitude must be encouraged because it is seldom met 
with. You seem to be a good man, and, though I don’t re- 
member you, still I will go with you into the public-house 
and drink to your success and future prospects with. the 
greatest pleasure.”’ 

“You seem always the same... . Are you always 
joking?” 

“What else can one do, living among you unfortunate 
men ?”’ | 

They went. Sometimes the Captain’s former customer, 
uplifted and unsettled by the entertainment, returned to 
the dosshouse, and on the following morning they would 
again begin treating each other till the Captain’s companion 
would wake up to realise that he had spent all his money 
in drink. 

“Your honour, do you see that I have again fallen into 
your hands? What shall we do now?” 

“The position, no doubt, is not a very good one, but still 
you need not trouble about it,’ reasoned the Captain. 
“You must, my friend, treat everything indifferently, with- 

6 ) 


Creatures that once were Men. 


out spoiling yourself by philosophy, and without asking 
yourself any question. To philosophise is always foolish ; 
to philosophise with a drunken headache, ineffably so. 
Drunken headaches require vodki and not the remorse of 
conscience or gnashing of teeth . . . save your teeth, or 
else you will not be able to protect yourself. Here are 
twenty kopecks. Go and buy a bottle of vodki for five 
kopecks, hot tripe or lungs, one pound of bread and two 
cucumbers. When we have lived off our drunken head-. 
ache we will think of the condition of affairs ... ” 

As a rule the consideration of the “ condition of affairs ”’ 
lasted some two or three days, and only when the Captain 
had not a farthing left of the three roubles or five roubles 
given him by his grateful customer did he say: 

“You came! Do you see? Now that we have drunk 
everything with you, you fool, try again to regain the path 
of virtue and soberness. It has been truly said that if you » 
do not sin, you will not repent, and, if you do not repent, 
you shall not be saved. We have done the first, and to 
repent is useless. Let us make direct for salvation. Go to 
the river and work, and if you think you cannot conirol 
yourself, tell the contractor, your employer, to keep your 
money, or else give it to me. When you get sufficient 
capital, I will get you a pair of trousers and other things 
necessary to make you seem a respectable and hard-working 
man, persecuted by fate. With decent-looking trousers you 
can go far. Now then, be off! ” 

Then the client would go to the river to work as a porter, 
smiling the while over the Captain’s long and wise speeches. 


7 


Creatures that once were Men. 


He did not distinctly understand them, but only saw in 
front of him two merry eyes, felt their encouraging influ- 
ence, and knew that in the loquacious Captain he had an 
arm that would assist him in time of need. 

And really it happened very often that, for a month or 
so, some ticket-of-leave client, under the strict surveillance 
of the Captain, had the opportunity of raising himself to a 
condition better than that to which, tha: iks to the Captain’s 
co-operation, he had fallen. 

“Now, then, my friend!” said the Captain, glancing 
critically at the restored client, ‘““we have a coat and 
jacket. When I had respectable trousers I lived in town 
like a respectable man. But when the trousers wore out, 
I too fell off in the opinion of my fellow-men and had to 
come down here from the town. Men, my fine mannikin, 
judge everything by the outward appearance, while, owing 
to their foolishness, the actual reality of things is incom- 
prehensible to them. Make a note of this on your nose, 
and pay me at least half your debt. Go in peace; seek, 
and you may find.” 3 : 

‘‘How much do I owe you, Aristid Fomich?’’ asks the 
client, in confusion. 

“One rouble and 70 kopecks. . . . Now, give me 
only one rouble, or, if you like, 70 kopecks, and as for the 
~ rest, I shall wait until you have earned more than you 
have now by stealing or by hard work, it does not matter 
to me.” 

“T thank you humbly for your kindness!” says the 
client, touched to the heart. ‘Truly you are a kind man. 

8 


Creatures that once were Men. 


; Life has persecuted you in vain. . . . What 
an eagle you would have been in your own place!” 

The Captain could not live without eloquent speeches. 

“What does ‘in my own place’ mean? No one really 
knows his own place in life, and every one of us crawls into 
his harness. The place of the merchant Judas Petunikoff 
ought to be in penal servitude, but he still walks through 
the streets in daylight, and even intends to build a factory. 
The place of our teacher ought to be beside a wife and half- 
a-dozen children, but he is loitering in the public-house of 
Vaviloff. And then, there is yourself. You are going to 
seek a situation as a hall porter or waiter, but I can see 
that you ought to be a soldier in the army, because you are 
no fool, are patient and understand discipline. Life shuffles 
us like cards, you see, and it is only accidentally, and only 
for a time, that we fall into our own places!” 

Such farewell speeches often served as a preface to the 
continuation of their acquaintance, which again began 
with drinking and went so far that the client would spend 
his last farthing. Then the Captain would stand him treat, 
and they would drink all they had. 

A repetition of similar doings did not affect in the least 
the good relations of the parties. 

The teacher mentioned by the Captain was another of 
those customers who were thus reformed only in order 
that they should sin again. Thanks to his intellect, he was 
the nearest in rank to the Captain, and this was probably 
the cause of his falling so low as dosshouse life, and of his 
inability to rise again. It was only with him that Aristid 


9 &, 


Creatures that once were Men. 


Kuvalda could philosophise with the certainty of being 
understood. He valued this, and when the reformed 
teacher prepared to leave the dosshouse in order to get a 
corner in town for himself, then Aristid Kuvalda accom- 
panied him so sorrowfully and sadly that it ended, as a 
rule, in their both getting drunk and spending all their 
money. Probably Kuvalda arranged the matter inten- 
tionally so that the teacher could not leave the dosshouse, 
though he desired to do so with all his heart. Was it 
possible for Aristid Kuvalda, a nobleman (as was evident 
from his speeches), one who was accustomed to think, 
though the turn of fate may have changed his position, 
was it possible for him not to desire to have close to him 
a man like himself? We can pity our own faults in others. 

This teacher had once taught at an institution in one of 
the towns on the Volga, but in consequence of some story 
was dismissed. After this he was a clerk in a tannery, but 
again had to leave. Then he became a librarian in some 
private library, subsequently following other professions. 
Finally, after passing examinations in law he became a 
lawyer, but drink reduced him to the Captain’s dosshouse. 
He was tall, round-shouldered, with a long sharp nose and 
bald head. In his bony and yellow face, on which grew a 
wedge-shaped beard, shone large, restless eyes, deeply 
sunk in their sockets, and the corners of his mouth drooped 
sadly down. He earned his bread, or rather his drink, by 
reporting for the local papers. He sometimes earned as 
much as fifteen roubles. These he gave to the Captain and 
sald : | 

Io 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“Tt is enough. I am going back into the bosom of 
culture. Another week’s hard work and I shall dress 
respectably, and then Addto, mio caro!” 

“ Very exemplary! AsI heartily sympathise with your 
decision, Philip, I shall not give you another glass all this 
week,” the Captain warned him sternly. ) 

“T shall be thankful! . . . . You will not give me 
one drop ?” 

The Captain heard in his voice a beseeching note to 
which he turned a deaf ear. 

“‘Kiven though you roar, I shall not give it you!” 

** As you like, then,” sighed the teacher, and went away 
to continue his reporting. But after a day or two he would 
return tired and thirsty, and would look at the Captain 
with a beseeching glance out of the corners of his eyes, 
hoping that his friend’s heart would soften. 

The Captain in such cases put on a serious face and 
‘began speaking with killing irony on the theme of weak- 
ness of character, of the animal delight of intoxication, and 
on such subjects as suited the occasion. One must do him 
justice: he was captivated by his réle of mentor and 
moralist, but the lodgers dogged him, and, listening scepti- 
eally to his exhortations to repentance, would whisper 
aside to each other : 

“Cunning, skilful, shifty rogue! I told you so, but you 
would not listen. It’s your own fault!” 

‘‘ His honour is really a good soldier. He goes first and 
examines the road behind him !”’ 

The teacher then hunted here and there till he found his 

II 


Creatures that once were Men. 


friend again in some corner, and grasping his dirty coat, 
trembling and licking his dry lips, looked into his face with 
a deep, tragic glance, without articulate words. 

“‘Can’t you ?” asked the Captain sullenly. 

The teacher answered by bowing his head and letting it 
fall on his breast, his tall, thin body trembling the while. 

“Wait another day . . . perhaps you will be all 
right then,” proposed Kuvalda. The teacher sighed, and 
shook his head hopelessly. 

The Captain saw that his friend’s thin body trembled 
with the thirst for the poison, and took some money from 
his pocket. : 

‘“‘In the majority of cases it is impossible to fight against 
fate,” said he, as if trying to justify himself before some- 
one. But if the teacher controlled himself for a whole 
week then there was a touching farewell scene between the — 
two friends, which ended asa rule in the eating-house of 
Vaviloff. The teacher did not spend all his money, but 
spent at least half on the children of the main street. The 
poor are always rich in children, and in the dirt and ditches 
of this street there were groups of them from morning to 
night, hungry, naked and dirty. Children are the living 
flowers of the earth, but these had the appearance of 
flowers that have faded prematurely, because they grew in 
ground where there was no healthy nourishment. Often 
the teacher would gather them round him, would buy them 
bread, eggs, apples and nuts, and take them into the fields 
by the river side. There they would sit and greedily eat 
everything he offered them, after which they would begin 

| 12 


Creatures that once were Men. 


to play, filling the fields for a mile around with careless 
noise and laughter. The tall, thin figure of the drunkard 
towered above these small people, who treated him familiarly, 
as if he were one of their own age. ‘They called him 
“Philip,” and did not trouble to prefix “Uncle” to 
his name. Playing around him, like little wild 
animals, they pushed him, jumped upon his back, beat 
him upon his bald head, and caught hold of his nose. 
All this. must have pleased him, as he did not protest 
against such liberties. He spoke very little to them, and 
when he did so he did it cautiously as if afraid that his 
words, would hurt or contaminate them. He passed many 
hours thus as their companion and plaything, watching 
their lively faces with his gloomy eyes. Then he would 
thoughtfully and slowly direct his steps to the eating- 
house of Vaviloff, where he would drink silently and quickly 
till all his senses left him. 


eee, 


* * * % * 


Almost every day after his reporting he would bring a 
newspaper, and then gather round him all these creatures 
that once were men. On seeing him, they would come 
forward from all corners of the court-yard, drunk, or suffer- 
ing from drunken headache, dishevelled, tattered, miser- 
able, and pitiable. Then would come the barrel-like, stout 
Aleksei Maksimovitch Simtsoff, formerly Inspector of 
Woods and Forests, under the Department of Appendages, 
but now trading in matches, ink, blacking, and lemons. 


ae 


we SX 
.< 


Creatures that once were Men. 


He was an old man of sixty, in @ canvas overcoat and a 
wide-brimmed hat, the greasy borders of which hid his 
stout fat red face. He had a thick white beard, out of 
which a small red nose turned gaily heavenwards. He 
had thick, crimson lips and watery, cynical eyes. They 
called him “ Kubar,’ a name which well described his 
round figure and buzzing speech. After him, Kanets ap- 
peared from some corner—a dark, sad -looking, silent 
drunkard: then the former governor of the prison, Luka 
Antonovitch Martyanoff, a man who existed on ‘‘remeshok,” 
 trilistika,’’ and ‘ bankovka,’* and many such cunning 
games, not much appreciated by the police. He would 
throw his hard and oft-scourged body on the grass beside 
the teacher, and, turning his eyes round and scratching his 
head, would ask in a hoarse, bass voice, “ May I?” 

Then appeared Pavel Solntseff, a man of thirty years of 
age, suffering from consumption. The ribs of his left side 
had been broken in a quarrel, and the sharp, yellow face, 
like that of a fox, always wore a malicious smile. The 
thin lips, when opened, exposed two rows of decayed black 
teeth, and the rags on his shoulders swayed backwards and 
forwards as if they were hung on a clothes pole. They 
called him “ Abyedok.” He hawked brushes and bath 
brooms of his own manufacture, good strong brushes made 
from a peculiar kind of grass. Sd 

Then followed a lean and bony man of whom no one 
knew anything, with a frightened expression in his eyes, 


Note by translator.—Well-known games of chance, played by the lower 
classes. The police specially endeavour to stop them, but unsuccessfully. 


14 


Creatures that once were Men. 


the left one of which had a squint. He was silent and 
timid, and had been imprisoned three times for theft by 
the High Court of Justice and the Magisterial Courts. 
His family name was Kiselnikoff, but they called him 
Paltara Taras, because he was a head and shoulders taller 
than his friend, Deacon Taras, who had been degraded 
from his office for drunkenness and immorality. The 
Deacon was a short, thick-set person, with the Shost of an 
athlete and a round, strong head. He danced skilfully, 
and was still more skilful at swearing. He and Paltara 
Taras worked in the wood on the banks of the river, and in 
free hours he told his friend or any one who would listen, 
‘Tales of my own composition,” as he used to say. On 
hearing these stories, the heroes of which always seemed to 
be saints, kings, priests, or generals, even the inmates of 
the dosshouse spat and rubbed their eyes in astonishment 
at the imagination of the Deacon, who told them shameless 
tales of lewd, fantastic adventures, with blinking eyes and 
a passionless expression of countenance. The imagination 
of this man was powerful and inexhaustible; he could go 
on relating and composing all day, from morning to night, 
without once repeating what he had said before. In his 
_ expression you sometimes saw the poet gone astray, some- 
times the romancer, and he always succeeded in making 
his tales realistic by the effective and powerful words in 
which he told them. 

There was also a foolish young man called Kuvalda 
Meteor. One night he came to sleep in the dosshouse and 
had remained ever since among these men, much to their 


T5 


' Creatures that once were Men. 


astonishment. At first they did not take much notice of 
him. In the daytime, like all the others, he went away to 
find something to eat, but at nights he always loitered 
around this friendly company till at last the Captain took 
notice of him. 

“Boy! What business have you here on this earth?” 

The boy answered boldly,and stoutly : 

“ T am a barefooted tramp . 

The Captain looked critically at bite This youngster 
had long hair and a weak face, with prominent cheek-bones 
and a turned-up nose. He was dressed in a blue blouse 
without a waistband, and on his head he wore the remains 
of a straw hat, while his feet were bare. 

You are a fool!”’ decided Aristid Kuvalda. ‘ What are 
you knocking about here for? You are of absolutely no 
use to us . . . Do you drink vodki?. . . No? ... Well, 
then, can you steal?’’ Again, “No.” “Go away, learn, and 
come back again when you know something, and are a man 


pay a 
5 


99 


The youngster smiled. 

“No. I shall live with you.” 
“Why ?” 

“‘ Just because... 
“Oh you . . . Meteor!” said the Captain. 

“T will break his teeth for him,” said Martyanoff. 

“And why ?” asked the youngster. 

Just because. ey 

‘“ And I will take a stone and hit you on the head,’ the 
young man answered respectfully. 

16 


93 


Creatures that once were Men. 


-Martyanoff would have broken his bones, had not. 
Kuvalda interrupted with: 

“Leave him alone. . . . Is this a home to you or 
even to us? You have no sufficient reason to break his 
teeth for age You have no better reason than he for 
living with us.’ 

“ Well, then, Devil fa him! . . . We all live in 
the world without sufficient reason. . . . We live, and 
why? Because! He also because . . . let him 
alone. . 

“But it is better for you, young man, to go away from 
us,” the teacher advised him, looking him up and down 
with his sad eyes. He made no answer, but remained. And 
they soon became accustomed to his presence, and ceased 
to take any notice of him. But he lived among them, and 
observed everything. 

The above were the chief members of the Captain’s 
company, and he called them with kind-hearted sarcasm 
‘*‘ Creatures that once were men.” For though there were 
_men who had experienced as much of the bitter irony of 
fate as these men, yet they were not fallen so low. Not 
_ infrequently, respectable men belonging to the. cultured 
classes are inferior to those belonging te the peasantry, 
and it is always a fact that the depraved man from the 
city is immeasurably worse than the depraved man from 
the village. This fact was strikingly illustrated by. the 
contrast between the formerly well-educated men and the 
mujiks who were living in Kuvalda’s shelter. 

The representative of the latter class was an old mujik 

17 0 


Creatures that once were Men. 


called Tyapa. Tall and angular, he kept his head in such 
a position that his chin touched his breast. He was the 
Captain’s first lodger, and it was said of him that he had 
a great deal of money hidden somewhere, and for its sake 
had nearly had his throat cut some two years ago: ever 
since then he carried his head thus. Over his eyes hung 
greyish eyebrows, and, looked at in profile, only his crooked 
nose was to be seen. His shadow reminded one of a 
poker. He denied that he had money, and said that they 
“only tried to cut his throat out of malice,’ and from 

that day he took to collecting rags, and that is why his 
head was always bent as if incessantly looking on the 
eround. When he went about shaking his head, and 
minus a walking-stick in his hand, and a bag on his 
back—the signs of his. profession—he seemed to be 
thinking almost to madness, and, at such times, Kuvalda 
spoke thus, pointing to him with his finger: 

“Look, there is the conscience of Merchant Judas 
Petunikoff. See how disorderly, dirty, and low is the 
escaped conscience.” 

Tyapa, as a rule, spoke in a hoarse and hardly audible 
voice, and that is why he spoke very little, and loved to 
be alone, But whenenever a stranger, compelled to ieave 
the village » appeared in the dosshouse, Tyapa seemed 
sadder and angrier, and followed the unfortunate about 
with biting jeers and a wicked chuckling in his throat. 
He either put some beggar against him, or himself 
threatened to rob and beat him, till the frightened mujik 
would disappear from the dosshouse and never more 

? 18 yas 


Creatures that once were Men. 


be seen. Then Tyapa was quiet again, and would sit in 
some corner mending his rags, or else reading his Bible, 
which was as dirty, worn, and old as himself. Only when 
the teacher brought a newspaper and began reading did 
he come from his corner once more. As a rule, T'yapa 
listened to what was read silently and sighed often, | 
without asking anything of anyone. But once when the 
teacher, having read the paper, wanted to put it away, 
Tyapa stretched out his bony hand, and said, ‘“ Give 
it tome...” 7 

“What do you want it for?” 

“Give it tome... Perhaps there is something in it 
about us...” 

“ About whom ?” 

** About the village.” 

They laughed at him, and threw him the paper. He 
took it, and read in it how in the village the hail had 
destroyed the cornfields, how in another village fire 
destroyed thirty houses, and that in a third a woman had 
poisoned her family,—in fact, everything that it is cus- 
tomary to write of,—everything, that is to say, which is bad, 
and which depicts only the worst side of the unfortunate 
village. Tyapa read all this silently and roared |, perhaps 
from sympathy, perhaps from delight at the sadnews. 

He passed the whole Sunday in reading his Bible, and 
never went out collecting rags on thatday. While reading, 
he groaned and sighed continually. He kept the book 
close to his breast, and was angry with any one who inter- 
rupted him or who touched his Bible. 

19 co 2 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“Oh, you drunken blackguard,” said Kuvalda to him, 
“‘what do you understand of it?” 

“ Nothing, wizard! I don’t understand anything, and | 
do not read any books ... ButI read...” 

“Therefore you are a fool ...” said the Captain, 
decidedly. ‘‘ When there are insects in your head, you 
know it is uncomfortable, but if some thoughts enter there 
too, how will you live then, you old toad?” 

“‘T have not long to live,” said Tyapa, quietly. 

Once the teacher asked how he had learned to read. 

“In prison,’ answered Tyapa, shortly. 

“Have you been there?” Wa) 

“I was there... .” 

“For what?” 

“Just so. ... It was a mistake. ... But I brought 
the Bible out with me from there. A lady gave it to 
me. ... It is good in prison, brother.” 

“Ts that so? And why?” | 

“Tt teaches one. ... I learned to read there.... 
I also got this book. . . . And all these you see,free.. . .” 

When the teacher appeared in the dosshouse, Tyapa 
had already lived there for some time. He looked long 
into the teacher's face, as if to discover what kind of a man 
he was. Tyapa often listened to his conversation, and 
once, sitting down beside him, said: 

“T see you are very learned. ... Have you read the 
Bible?” 

“‘T have read if... .” 

“T see; I see... . Can you remember it?” 

20 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“Yes. ... I remember it.... 
Then the old man leaned to one side and gazed at the 
other with a serious, suspicious glance. | 
“There were the Amalekites, do you remember?” 
“Well?” 
‘“‘ Where are they now?” 
“ Disappeared ... Tyapa... diedout...” 
The old man was silent, then asked again: ‘“ And where 
are the Philistines ?” 
“These also... ” 
‘“‘ Have all these died out?” 
OB a We PR Manes 
“And so... we also will die out?” 
‘There will come a time when we also will die,”’ said the 
teacher indifferently. 
‘¢ And to what tribe of Israel do we belong?” 
The teacher looked at him, and began telling him about 
Scythians and Slavs... . 
The old man became all the more frightened, and glanced 
at his face. | | 
“You are lying!” he said scornfully, when the teacher 
had finished. Ca: 
What lie have I told?” asked the teacher. 
“You mentioned tribes that are not mentioned in the 
Bible.” | 
He got up and walked away, angry and deeply insulted. 
“You will go mad, Tyapa,” called the teacher after him 
with conviction. 
Then the old man came back again, and stretching out 
21 


thn 


Creatures that once were Men. 


his hand, threatened him with his crooked and dirty 
finger. | 
~ God made Adam—from Adam were descended the Jews, 
that means that all people are descended from Jews... 
and we also...” 

“Well? ” 

‘‘Tartars are descended from Ishmael, but he also came 


of the Jews...” 


“What do you want to tell me all this for?” 

“Nothing! Only why do you tell lies?” Then he 
walked away, leaving his companion in perplexity. But 
after two days he came again and sat by him. 

“You are learned... Tell me, then, whose descen- 
dants are we? Are we Babylonians, or who are we?” 

‘We are Slavs, T'yapa,”’ said the teacher, and attentively 
awaited his answer, wishing to understand him. 

‘Speak to me from the Bible. There are no such men 
there.” 

Then the teacher began criticising the Bible. The old man 
listened, and interrupted him after a long while. 

“Stop... Wait! That means that among people 
known to God there are no Russians? We are not known 
to God? Isitso? God knew all those who are mentioned 
in the Bible . . . He destroyed them by sword and fire, He 
destroyed their cities; but He also sent prophets to teach 
them. That means that He also pitied them. He scattered 
the Jews and the Tartars .. . But what aboutus? Why 
have we prophets no longer?” 

“Well, I don’t know!” replied the teacher, trying to 

22 | 


Creatures that once were Men. 


understand the old man. But the latter put his hand op 
the teacher’s shoulder, and slowly pushed him backwaslll 
and forwards, and his throat made a noise as if. he were 
swallowing something. ... 

‘‘Tell me! You speak so much... asif you knew 
everything. It makes me sick to listen to you... you 
darken my soul. . . . I should be better pleased 
if you were silent. Who are we, eh? Why have 
we no prophets? Ha,ha! . . . Where were we whén 
Christ walked on this earth? Do you see? And you too, 
you are lying. . . . Do you think that all die out? 
The. Russian people will never disappear. ... You are 
lying. . . . It has been written in the Bible, only it is not 
known what name the Russians are given. Do you see 
what kind of people they are? They are numberless. 
. . - How many villages are there on the earth? Think 
‘of all the people who live on it, so strong, so numerous! 
And you say that they will die out; men shall die, but 
God wants the people, God the Creator of the earth! The 
Amalekites did not die out. They are either German or 
French. . . . But you, eh, you! Now then, tell me why 
we are abandoned by God? Have we no punishments nor 
prophets from the Lord? Who then will teach us?” 
Tyapa spoke strongly and plainly, and there was faith 
in his words. He had been speaking a long time, and the 
teacher, who was generally drunk and in a speechless 
condition, could not stand it any longer. He looked at the 
dry, wrinkled old man, felt the great force of these words, 
and suddenly began to pity himself. He wished to say 


23 


Creatures that once were Men. 


something so strong and convincing to the old man that— 
Tyapa would be disposed in his favour; he did not wish to 
speak in such a serious, earnest way, but ina soft and 
fatherly tone. And the teacher felt as if something were 
rising from his breast into his throat . . . But he could not 
find any powerful words. 

‘“‘ What kind of a man are you? ... Your soul seems 
to be torn away—and you still continue speaking ... as 
if you knew something . . . It would be better if you were 
silent.’’ 

“Ah, Tyapa, what you say is true,” replied the teacher, 
sadly. ‘The people... you are right... they are 
numberless ... but I am a stranger to them ... and 
they arestrangers to me . . . Do yousee where the tragedy 
of my life is hidden? ... But let me alone! I shall 
suffer . . . and there are no prophets also. ..No. You 
are right, 1 speak a great deal . . . Butit is no good to 
anyone. I shall be always silent ... Only don’t speak 
with me like this... Ah, old man, you do not know 
. .. You do not know ... And you cannot understand.” 

And in the end the teacher cried. He cried so easily 
and so freely, with such torrents of flowing tears, that 
he soon found relief. 

“You ought to go into a village ... become a clerk 
or a teacher ... You would be well fed there. What 
are you crying for ?” asked Tyapa, sadly. 

But the teacher was crying as if the tears quieted and 
comforted him. 

From this day they became friends, and the “ creatures 


24 


Creatures that once were Men. 


that once were men,” seeing them together, said: “‘ The 
teacher is friendly with Tyapa . . . He wishes his money. 
Kuvalda must have put this into his head... To look 
about to see where the old man’s fortune is . . .” 

Probably they did not believe what they said. There 
was one strange thing about these men, namely, that 
they painted themselves to others worse than they actually 
were. A man who has good in him does not mind some- 
times showing his worse nature. 


& % % * % 


When all these people were gathered round the teacher, 
then the reading of the newspaper would begin. 

“Well, what does the newspaper discuss to-day? Is 
there any feuilleton ?”’ 

‘‘No,” the teacher informs him. 

“Your publisher seems greedy . .. but is there any 
leader ?”’ 

“There is one to-day....It appears to be by 
Gulyaeff.” 

“Aha! Come, out with it. He writes cleverly, the 
rascal.” 

***The taxation of immovable property,’” reads the 
teacher, ‘“‘‘ was introduced some fifteen years ago, and up 
to the present it has served as the basis for collecting 
these taxes in aid of the city revenue .. .’” 

“That is simple,” comments’ Captain Kuvalda. ‘It 
continues to serve. That is ridiculous. To the merchant 


25 


999 


Creatures that once were Men. 


who is moving about in the city, it is profitable that it 
should continue to serve. Therefore it does continue.” 

“The article, in fact, is written on the subject,” says the 
teacher. 

“Ts it? That is strange, it is more a subject for a 
feuilleton .. .” 

“Such a subject must be treated with plenty of pepper 

Then a short discussion begins. The people listen 
attentively, as only one bottle of vodki has been drunk. 

After the leader, they read the local events, then the 
court proceedings, and, if in the police court it reports 
_ that the defendant or plaintiffis a merchant, then Aristid 
Kuvalda sincerely rejoices. If someone has robbed the 
merchant, “That is good,’ says he. “Only it is a 
pity they robbed him of so little.” If his horses have 
broken down, “It is sad that he is still alive.” If the 
merchant has lost his suit in court, “It is a pity that the 
costs were not double the amount.” 

“That would have been illegal,” remarks the teacher. | 

“Tllegal! But is the merchant himself legal?” inquires 
Kuvalda, bitterly. ‘‘What is the merchant? Let us 
investigate this rough and uncouth phenomenon. First 
of all, every merchant is a mujik. He comes from a 
village, and in course of time becomes a merchant. In 
order to be a merchant, one must have money. Where 
can the mujik get the money from? It is well known 
that he does not get it by honest hard work, and that 
means that the mujik, somehow or other, has been 

26 | 


Creatures that once were Men. 


swindling. That is to say, a merchant is simply a dis- 
honest mujik.” 

“Splendid!” cry the people, approving the orator’s 
deduction, and Tyapa bellows all the time, scratching his 
breast. He always bellows like this as he drinks his first 
glass of vodki, when he has a drunken headache. The 
Captain beams with joy. They next read the correspond- 
ence. This is, for the Captain, “an abundance of drinks,” 
as he himself calls it. He always notices how the merchants 
make this life abominable, and how cleverly they spoil 
everything. His speeches thunder at and annihilate 
merchants. His audience listens to him with the greatest 
pleasure, because he swears atrociously. ‘If I wrote for 
the papers,” he shouts, “I would show up the merchant in 
his true colours ... I would show that he is a beast, 
playing for a time.the réle of aman. I understand him! 
He is a rough boor, does not know the meaning of the 
words ‘good taste,’ has no notion of patriotism, and his 
knowledge is not worth five kopecks.” 

Abyedok, knowing the Captain’s weak point, and fond of 
making other people angry, cunningly adds : 

“Yes, since the nobility began to make acquaintance with 
hunger, men have disappeared from the world . . .” 

“You are right, you son of a spider and a toad. Yes, 
from the time that the noblemen fell, there have been no 
men. There are only merchants, and I hate them.” 

“That is easy to understand, brother, because you, too, 
have been brought down by them .. .” 

“‘T? Iwas ruined by love of life . . . Fool that I was, 


27 


Creatures that once were Men. 


I loved life, but the merchant spoils it, and I cannot bear 
it, simply for this reason, and not because I am a nobleman. 
But if you want to know the truth, I was once a man, 
though I was not noble. I care now for nothing and 
nobody ... and all my life has been tame—a sweet- 
heart who has jilted me—therefore I despise life, and am 
indifferent to it.” 

“You lie!’ says Abyedok. 

“T lie?” roars Aristid Kuvalda, almost crimson with 
anger. 

“Why shout?” comes in the cold sad voice of Marty- 
anoff. 
““Why judge others? Merchants, noblemen . .. what 
have we to do with them ?”’ 

“ Seeing that we are”’ . . . puts in Deacon Taras. 

“Be quiet, Abyedok,” says the teacher, goodnaturedly. 
“Why do you provoke him?” He does not love either 
discussion or noise, and when they quarrel all around 
him his lips form into a sickly grimace, and he endeavours 
quietly and reasonably to reconcile each with the other, 
and if he does not succeed in this he leaves the company. 
Knowing this, the Captain, if he is not very drunk, controls 
himself, not wishing to lose, in the person of the teacher, 
one of the best of his listeners. 

“T repeat,’ he continues, in a quieter tone, “ that I see 
life in the hands of enemies, not only enemies of the noble 
but of everything good, avaricious and incapable of adorn-. 
ing existence in any way.” | 

‘‘ But all the same,” says the teacher, ‘‘ merchants, so to 

28 


Creatures that once were Men. 


speak, created Genoa, Venice, Holland—and all these were 
merchants, merchants from England, India, the sacscionaia 
merchants ... ” 

“TI do not speak of these men, I am thinking of Judas 
Petunikoff, who is one of them. wr 

“ And you say you have nothing to do with them ?” asks 
the teacher, quietly. 

“But do you think that I do not live? Aha! I do 
live, but I suppose I ought not to be angry at the fact 
that life is desecrated and robbed of all freedom by these 
men.” 

“And they dare to laugh at the kindly anger of the 
Captain, a man living in retirement?” says Abyedok, 
teasingly. 

“Very well! Iagree with you that I am foolish. Being 
a creature who was once a man, I ought to blot out from 
my heart all those feelings that once were mine. You may 
be right, but then how could I or any of you defend our- 
selves if we did away with all these feelings?” 

“Now then, you are talking sense,” says. the teacher, 
encouragingly. 

‘We want other feelings and other views on life... . 
We want something new . . . because we ourselves are a 
novelty in this life. . . .” 

“Doubtless this is most important for us,’ remarks the 
teacher. 

“Why?” asks Kanets. ‘Is it not all the same whatever 
we say or think? We have not got long to live... I am 
forty, you are fifty . . . there is no one among us younger 


29 


Creatures that once were Men. 
than thirty, and even at twenty one cannot live such a life - 
long.” 

‘‘And what kind of novelty are we?” asked Abyedok, © 
mockingly. 

‘“‘ Since nakedness has always existed .. .” 

“Yes, and it created Rome,” said the teacher. 

“Yes, of course,” says the Captain, beaming with joy. 
“Romulus and Remus, eh? We also shall create when 
our time comes... .” 

“Violation of public peace,” interrupts Abyedok. He 
laughs ina self-satisfied way. His laughter is impudent 
and insolent, and is echoed by Simtsoff, the Deacon and 
Paltara Taras. The naive eyes of young Meteor light up, 
and his cheeks flush crimson. 

Kanets speaks, and it seems as if he were hammering 
their heads. 

“* All these are foolish illusions . . . fiddle-sticks!” 

It was strange to see them reasoning in this manner, 
these outcasts from life, tattered, drunken with vodki and 
wickedness, filthy and forlorn. Such conversations rejoiced 
the Captain’s heart. They gave him an opportunity of 
speaking more, and therefore he thought himself better 
than the rest. However low he may fall, a man can never 
deny himself the delight of feeling cleverer, more powerful, 
or even better fed than his companions. Aristid Kuvalda 
abused this pleasure, and never could have enough of it, 
-much to the disgust of Abyedok, Kubar, and others of 
these creatures that once were men, who were less 
interested in such things. 


30 


Creatures that once were Men. 


Politics, however, were more to the popular taste. The 
discussions as to the necessity of taking India or of sub- 
duing England were lengthy and protracted. Nor did they 
speak with less enthusiasm of the radical measure of 
clearing Jews off the face of the earth. On this subject 
Abyedok was always the first to propose dreadful plans to 
effect the desired end, but the Captain, always first in every 
other argument, did not join in this one. They also spoke 
much and impudently about women, but the teacher always 
defended them, and sometimes was very angry when they 
went so far as to pass the limits of decency. They all, as 
a rule, gave in to him, because they did not look upon him 
as @ common person, and also because they wished to 
borrow from him on Saturdays the money which he had 
earned during the week. He had many privileges. They 
never beat him, for instance, on these occasions when the 
conversation ended in a free fight. He had the right to 
bring women into the dosshouse; a privilege accorded to 
no one else, as the Captain had previously warned them. 

“No bringing of women to my house,” he had said. 
“Women, merchants and philosophers, these are the three 
causes of myruin. [ will horsewhip anyone bringing in 
women. I will horsewhip the woman also. ... And as 
to the philosopher Pll knock his head off for him.” And 
notwithstanding his age he could have knocked anyone’s 
head off, for he possessed wonderful strength. Besides 
that, whenever he fought or quarrelled, he was assisted by 
Martyanoff, who was accustomed during a general fight to 
stand silently and sadly back to back with Kuvalda, when 


31 


Creatures that once were Men. 


he became an all-destroying and impregnable engine of 
war. Once when Simtsoff was drunk, he rushed at the 
teacher for no reason whatever, and getting hold of his 
head tore out a bunch of hair. Kuvalda, with one stroke 
of his fist in the other’s chest sent him spinning, and he 
fell to the ground. He was unconscious for almost half- 
an-hour, and when he came to himself, Kuvalda compelled 
him to eat the hair he had torn from the teacher’s head. 
He ate it, preferring this to being beaten to death. 

Besides reading newspapers, fighting and indulging in 
general conversation, they amused themselves by playing 
cards. ‘They played without Martyanoff because he could 
not play honestly. After cheating several times, he 
openly confessed : 

“T cannot play without cheating ... it is a habit of 
mine.”’ 

‘Habits do get the better of you,’ assented Deacon 
Taras. ‘I always used to beat my wife every Sunday after 
Mass, and when she died I cannot describe how extremely 
dull I felt every Sunday. I lived through one Sunday—it 
was dreadful, the second I still controlled myself, the third 
Sunday I struck my Asok.... She was angry and 
threatened to summon me. Just imagine if she had done 
so! On the fourth Sunday, I beat her just as if she were 
my own wife! After that I gave her ten roubles, and beat 
her according to my own rules till I married again!” , 

“You are lying, Deacon! How could you marry a 
second time?” interrupted Abyedok. 

“Ay, just so. . . She looked after my house... . 


32 


39 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“Did you have any children?” asked the teacher. 
“Five of them. . . . One was drowned .. . the oldest 
. he was an amusing boy! ‘T'wo died of diphtheria . 

One of the daughters married a student and went with 
him to Siberia. The other went to the University of St. 
Petersburg and died there . . . of consumption they say. 
Ye—es, there were five of them. ... Heclesiastics are 
prolific, you know.” He began explaining why this was 
so, and they laughed till they nearly burst at his tales. 
When the laughter stopped, Aleksei Maksimovitch Simtsoff 
remembered that he too had once had a daughter. 

“Her name was Lidka . .. she was very stout... 
More than this he did not seem to remember, for he looked 
at them all, was silent and smiled ... in a guilty way. 
Those men spoke very little to each other about their 
past, and they recalled it very seldom and then only its 
general outlines. When they did mention it, it was in a- 
cynical tone. Probably, this was just as well, since, in 
many people, remembrance of the past kills all present 
energy and deadens all hope for the future. 


* * * * * 


On rainy, cold, or dull days in the late autumn, these 
“creatures that once were men” gathered in the eating- 
house of Vaviloff. They were well known there, where some 
feared them as thieves and rogues, and some looked upon 
them contemptuously as hard drinkers, although they 
respected them, thinking that they were clever. 


33 D 


Creatures that once were Men. 


The eating-house of Vaviloff was the club of the main 
street, and the “creatures that once were men” were its 
most intellectual members. On Saturday evenings or 
Sunday mornings, when the eating-house was packed, the 
“creatures that once were men” were only too welcome 
guests. They brought with them, besides the forgotten 
and poverty-stricken inhabitants of the street, their own 
spirit, in which there was something that brightened the 
lives of men exhausted and worn out in the struggle for 
existence, as great drunkards as the inhabitants of Kuvalda’s 
shelter, and, like them, outcasts from the town. ‘Their 
ability to speak on all subjects, their freedom of opinion, 
skill in repartee, courage in the presence of those of 
whom the whole street was in terror, together with 
their daring demeanour, could not but be pleasing to © 
their companions. ‘Then, too, they were well versed in 
law, and could advise, write petitions, and help to swindle 
without incurring the risk of punishment. For all this 
they were paid with vodki and flattering admiration of 
their talents. 

The inhabitants of the street were divided into two 
parties according to their sympathies. One was in favour 
of Kuvalda, who was thought ‘‘a good soldier, clever, and | 
courageous,” the other was convinced of the fact that the 
teacher was “‘ superior” to Kuvalda. The latter’s admirers 
were those who were known to be drunkards, thieves, and 
murderers, for whom the road from beggary to prison was 
inevitable. But those who respected the teacher were men 
who still had expectations, still hoped for better things, © 


34 


Creatures that once were Men. 


who were eternally occupied with nothing, and who were 
nearly always hungry. 

The nature of the teacher’s and Kuvalda’s relations to- 
wards the street may be gathered from the following: 

Once in the eating-house they were discussing the resolu- 
tion passed by the Corporation regarding the main street, 
viz., that the inhabitants were to fill up the pits and 
ditches in the street, and that neither manure nor the dead 
bodies of domestic animals should be used for the purpose, 
but only broken tiles, etc., from the ruins of other houses. 

‘‘ Where am I going to get these same broken tiles and 
bricks? I could not get sufficient bricks together to build 
a hen-house,” plaintively said Mokei Anisimoff, a man who 
hawked kalaches (a sort of white bread) which were baked 
by his wife. 

‘Where can you get broken bricks and lime rubbish ? 
Take bags with you, and go and remove them from the 
Corporation buildings. They are so old that they are of 
no use to anyone, and you will thus be doing two good 
deeds ; firstly, by repairing the main street; and secondly, 
by adorning the city with a new Corporation building.” 

“‘Tf you want horses get them from the Lord Mayor, and 
take his three daughters, who seem quite fit for harness. 
Then destroy the house of Judas Petunikoff and pave the 
street with its timbers. By the way, Mokei, I know out of 
what your wife baked to-day’s kalaches ; out of the frames 
of the third window and the two steps from the roof of 
Judas’ house.” 

When those present had laughed and joked sufficiently 


35 D 2 


Creatures that once were Men. 


over the Captain’s proposal, the sober market gardener, 
Pavlyugus asked : 

‘But seriously, what are we to do, your honour? ... 
Kh? What do you think ?” 

“1? I shall neither move hand nor foot. If they 
wish to clean the street let them do it.” 

“Some of the houses are almost coming down. .. . 

“Tet them fall; don’t interfere; and when they fall 
ask help from the city. If they don’t give it you, then 
bring a suit in court against them! Where does the water 
come from? From the city! Therefore let the city be 
responsible for the destruction of the houses.” 

“ They will say it is rain-water.” 

“Does it destroy the houses in the city? Eh? They 
take taxes from you but they do not permit you to speak ! 
They destroy your property and at the same time compel 
you to repair it!’ And half the radicals in the street, 
convinced by the words of Kuvalda, decided to wait till the 
rain-water came down in huge streams and swept away 
their houses. The others, more sensible, found in the 
teacher a man who composed for them an excellent and 
convincing report for the Corporation. In this report the 
refusal of the street’s inhabitants to comply with the reso- 
lution of the Corporation was so well explained that the 
Corporation actually entertained it. It was decided that 
the rubbish left after some repairs had been done to the 
barracks should be used for mending and filling up the 
ditches in their street, and for the transport of this five 
horses were given by the fire brigade. Still more, they 

36 


+B] 





Creatures that once were Men. 


even saw the necessity of laying a drain-pipe through the 
street. This and many other things vastly increased the 
popularity of the teacher. He wrote petitions for them 
and published various remarks in the newspapers. For 
instance, on one occasion Vavilofi’s customers noticed that 
the herrings and other provisions of the eating-house were 
not what they should be, and after a day or two they saw 
Vaviloff standing at the bar with the newspaper in his 
hand making a public apology. 

“Tt is true, | must acknowledge, that I bought old and not 
very good herrings, and the cabbage . . . also. . . was old. 
_ It is only too well known that anyone can put aie a, five- 
kopeck piece in his pocket in this way. And what is the 
result ? If has not been a success; I was greedy, I own, 
but the cleverer man has exposed me, so we are quits. . .”’ 

This. confession made a very good impression on the 
people, and it also gave Vaviloff the opportunity of still 
feeding them with herrings and cabbages which were not 
good, though they failed to notice it, so much were they 
impressed. 

This incident was very significant, because it increased 
not only the, teacher’s popularity, but also the effect of 
press opiniory. 

It often happened, too, that the teacher read lectures on 
practical motality in the eating-house. 

“T saw you,’ he said to the painter Yashka Tyarin, “I 
saw you, Yakov, beating your wife .. .” 

Yashka was ‘touched with paint” after two glasses of 
vodki, and was in a slightly uplifted condition. 


37. 


Creatures that once were Men 


The people looked at him, expecting him to make a row, 
and all were silent. 

“Did you see me? And how did it please you?” asks 
Yashka. | 

The people control their laughter. 

“No; it did not please me,” replies the teacher. His 
tone is so serious that the people are silent. 

“You see I was just trying it,” said Yashka, with 
bravado, fearing that the teacher would rebuke him. 
“The wife is satisfied. . . ; She has not got up yet 
to-day... .” | 

The teacher, who was drawing absently with his fingers 
on the table, said, “Do you see, Yakov, why this did not 
please me? ... Let us go into the matter thoroughly, 
and understand what you are really doing, and what the 
result may be. Your wife is pregnant. You struck her 
last night on her sides and breast. That means that you 
beat not only her but the child too. You may have killed 
him, and your wife might have died or else have become 
seriously ill. - To have the trouble of looking after a sick 
woman is not pleasant. It is wearing, and would cost you 
dear, because illness requires medicine, and medicine 
money. If you have not killed the child, you may have 
crippled him, and he will be born deformed, lop-sided, or 
hunch-backed. That means that he will net be able to 
work, and it is only too important to you that he should 
be a good workman. Even if he be born ill, if will be bad 
enough, because he will keep his mother from work, and 
will require medicine. Do you see what you are doing to 


Pua ane 


Creatures that once were Men. 


yourself? Men who live by hard work must be strong and 
healthy, and they should have strong and healthy children. 
..- Do I speak truly?” 

‘‘ Yes,” assented the listeners. 

“But all this will never happen,” says Yashka, be- 
coming rather frightened at the prospect held out to 
him by the teacher. ‘‘ She is healthy, and I cannot have 
reached the child ... She is a devil—a hag!” he 
shouts angrily. ‘‘I would ... She will eat me away as 
rust eats iron.” 

“T understand, Yakov, that you cannot help beating 
your wife,” the teacher’s sad and thoughtful voice again 
breaks in. ‘ You have many reasons for doing so... 
It is your wife’s character that causes you to beat her so 
incautiously . . . But your own dark and sad life...” | 

“You are right!” shouts Yakov. “We livé in darkness, 
like the chimney-sweep when he is in the chimney !” 

“You are angry with your life, but your wife is patient ; 
the closest relation to you—your wife, and you make her 
suffer for this, simply because you are stronger than she. 
She is always with you, and cannot get away. Don’t you 
see how absurd you are?” 

“That is so... . Devil take it! But what shall I do? 
Am I not a man?” 

“Just so! You areaman.... I only wish to tell you 
that if you cannot help beating her, then beat her carefully 
and always remember that you may injure her health or 
that of the child. It is not good to beat pregnant women 

. on their belly or on their sides and chests. . . . Beat 


39 


Creatures that once were Men. 


her, say, on the neck ... or else take a rope and beat 
her on somé€ soft place . . .” 

The orator finished his speech and looked upon his 
hearers with his dark, pathetic eyes, seeming to apologise 
to them for some unknown crime. 

The public understands it. They understand the 
morale of the creature who was once a man, the morale 
of the public-house and much misfortune. 

“Well, brother Yashka, did you understand? See how 
true it is!” 

Yakov understood that to beat her incautiously might be 
injurious to his wife. He is silent, replying to his com- 
panions’ jokes with confused smiles. 

“Then again, what is a wife?’’ philosophises the baker, 
Mokei Anisimoff. ‘‘A wife ...is a friend... if we 
look at the matter in that way. She is lke a chain, 
chained to you for life... and you are both just like © 
galley slaves. And if you try to get away from her, you 
cannot, you feel the chain .. .” 

“Wait,” says Yakovleff; ‘ but you beat your wife too.” 

“Did I say that I did not? I beat her. . . There 
is nothing else handy. . . Do you expect me to 
beat the wall with my fist when my patience is ex- 
hausted ? ” 

“T feel just like that too. . .” says Yakov. 


‘How hard and difficult our life is, my brothers! There , 


is no real rest for us anywhere! ”’ 
“And even you beat your wife by mistake,” some one 
remarks humorously. And thus they speak till far on in the 


40 


Creatures that once were Men. 


night or till they have quarrelled, the usual result of drink 
or of passions engendered by such discussions. 

The rain beats on the windows, and outside the cold 
wind is blowing. The eating-house is close with tobacco 
smoke, but it is warm, while the street is cold and wet. 
Now and then, the wind beats threateningly on the 
windows of the eating-house, as if bidding these men to 
come out and be scattered like dust over the face of the 
earth. Sometimes a stifled and hopeless groan is heard 
in its howling which again is drowned by cold, cruel 
laughter. This music fills one with dark, sad thoughts of 
the approaching winter, with its accursed short, sunless 
days and long nights, of the necessity of possessing warm 
garments and plenty to eat. It is hard to sleep through 
the long winter nights on an empty stomach. Winter is 
approaching. Yes, it is approaching. . . How to live? 

These gloomy forebodings created a strong thirst among 
the inhabitants of the main street, and the sighs of the 
“creatures that once were men” increased with the wrin- 
kles on their brows, their voices became thick and their 
behaviour to each other more blunt. And brutal crimes 
were committed among them, and the roughness of these 
poor unfortunate outcasts was apt to increase at the 
approach of that inexorable enemy, who transformed all 
- their lives into one cruel farce. But this enemy could not 
be captured because it was invisible. 

Then they began beating each other brutally, and drank 
till they had drunk everything which they could pawn to 
the indulgent Vaviloff. And thus they passed the autumn 


AI 


Creatures that once were Men. 


days in @pen wickedness, in suffering which was eating 
their hearts out, unable to rise out of this vicious life and 
in dread of the still crueller days of winter. 

Kuyalda in such cases came to their assistance with his — 
philosophy. 

“Don’t lose your temper, brothers, everything has an 
end, tltis is the chief characteristic of life. The winter will 
pass, summer will follow ... a glorious time, when the 
very sparrows are filled with rejoicing.”’ But his speeches 
did not have any effect—a mouthful of even the freshest 
and purest water will not satisfy a hungry man. 

Deacon Taras also tried to amuse the people by singing 
his songs and relating his tales. He was more successful, 
and sometimes his endeavours ended in a wild and glorious 
orgy at the eating-house. They sang, laughed and danced, 
and for hours behaved likemadmen. After this they again 
fell into a despairing mood, sitting at the tables of the 
eating-house, in the black smoke of the lamp and the 
tobacco; sad and tattered, speaking lazily to each other, 
listening to the wild howling of the wind, and thinking how 
they could get enough vodki to deaden their senses. 

And their hand was against every man, and every man’s 
hand against them. | 


42 


PART II. 


All things are relatiye in this world, and a man cannot 
sink into any condition so bad that it could not be worse. 
One day, towards the end of September, Captain Aristid 
Kuvalda was sitting, as was his custom, on the bench near 
the door of the dosshouse, looking at the stone building 
built by the merchant Petunikoff close to Vaviloff’s eating- 
house, and thinking deeply. This building, which was 
partly surrounded by woods, served the purpose of a candle 
factory. 

Painted red, as if with blood, it looked like a cruel 
machine which, though not working, opened a row of deep, 
hungry, gaping jaws, as if ready to devour and swallow 
anything. The grey wooden eating-house of Vaviloff, with 
its bent roof covered with patches, leaned against one of 
the brick walls of the factory, and seemed as if it were 
some large form of parasite clinging to it. The Captain 
was thinking that they would very soon be making new 
houses to replace the old building. ‘They will destroy 
the dosshouse even,” he reflected. “It will be necessary 
to look out for another, but such a cheap one is not to be 
found. It seems a great pity to have to leave a place to 
which one is accustomed, though it will be necessary to go, 


43 


Creatures that once were Men. 


simply because some merchant or other thinks of manu- 
facturing candles and soap.” And the Captain felt that 
if he could only make the life of such an enemy miserable, 
even temporarily, oh! with what pleasure he would do it! 

Yesterday, Ivan Andreyevitch Petunikoff was in the doss- 
house yard with his son and an architect. They measured ° 
the yard and put small wooden sticks in various places, 
which, after the exit of Petunikoff and at the order of the 
Captain, Meteor took out and threw away. To the eyes of 
the Captain this merchant appeared small and thin. He 
wore a long garment like a frock-coat, a velvet cap, and high, 
well-cleaned boots. He had a thin face with prominent cheek- 
bones, a wedge-shaped greyish beard, and a high forehead 
seamed with wrinkles from beneath which shone two narrow, | 
blinking, and observant grey eyes ... a sharp, gristly 
nose, a small mouth with thin lips . . . altogether his 
appearance was pious, rapacious, and respectably wicked. 

“Cursed cross-bred fox and pig!” swore the Captain 
under his breath, recalling his first meeting with Petunikoff. 
The merchant came with one of the town councillors to buy 
the house, and seeing the Captain asked his companion: 

_ “Ts this your lodger ?”’ 

And from that day, a year and a half ago, there has been 
keen competition among the inhabitants of the dosshouse 
as to which can swear the hardest at the merchant. And 
last night there was a “slight skirmish with hot words,” as 
the Captain called it, between Petunikoff and himself. 
Having dismissed the architect the merchant approached 
the Captain. | 

44 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“What are you hatching?” asked he, putting his hand 
to his cap, perhaps to adjust it, perhaps as a salutation. 

‘What are you plotting?”’ answered the Captain in the 
same tone. He moved his chin so that his beard trembled 
a little; a non-exacting person might have taken it for a 
bow ; otherwise it only expressed the desire of the Captain 
to move his pipe from one corner of his mouth to the 
other. ‘“‘ You see, having plenty of money, I can afford to 
sit hatching it. Money is a good thing, and I possess it,” 
the Captain chaffed the merchant, casting cunning glances 
at him. “It means that you serve money, and not money 
you,” went on Kuvalda, desiring at the same time to punch 
the merchant’s belly. 

“Tsn’t it all the same? Money makes life comfortable, 
but no money,” ... and the merchant looked at the 
Captain with a feigned expression of suffering. The other’s 
upper lip curled, and exposed large, wolf-like teeth. 

“With brains and a conscience, it is possible to live 
without it. Men only acquire riches when they cease to 
listen to their conscience . . . the less conscience the more 
money !”’ ) | 

“Just so; but then there are men who have neither 
money nor conscience.” 

“Were you just like what you are now when you were 
young ?”’ asked Kuvalda simply. The other’s nostrils 
twitched. Ivan Andreyevitch sighed, passed his hand over 
his eyes and said: 

“Oh! When I was young I had to undergo a great 
many difficulties ... Work! Oh! I did work!” 


45 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“ And you cheated, too, I suppose ?”’ 

‘People like you? Nobles? I should just think so! 
They used to grovel at my feet!” 

“You only went in for robbing, not murder, I suppose ?” 
asked the Captain. Petunikoff turned pale, and hastily 
changed the subject. 

“You are a bad host. You sit while your guest stands.” 

* Let him sit, too,” said Kuvalda. 

“ But what am I to sit on?” 

“On the earth . . . it will take any rubbish .. .” 

“You are the proof of that,” said Petunikoff quietly, 
while his eyes shot forth poisonous glances. 

And he went away, leaving Kuvalda under the pleasant 
impression that the merchant was afraid of him. If he 
were not afraid of him he would long ago have evicted him - 
from the dosshouse. But then he would think twice before 
turning him out, because of the five roubles a month. And 
the Captain gazed with pleasure at Petunikoff’s back as he 
slowly retreated from the courtyard. Following him with 
his eyes, he noticed how the merchant passed the factory 
and disappeared into the wood, and he wished very much 
that he might fall and break all his bones. He sat 
imagining many horrible forms of disaster while watching 
Petunikoff, who was descending the hill into the wood like 
a spider going into its web. Last night he even imagined 
that the wood gave way before the merchant and he 
fell . . . but afterwards he found that he had only been 
dreaming. : 

And to-day, as always, the red building stands out 

46 | 


Creatures that once were Men. 


before the eyes of Aristid Kuvalda, so plain, so massive, 
and clinging so strongly to the earth, that it seems to 
be sucking away all its life. It appears to be laughing 
coldly at the Captain with its gaping walls. The sun 
pours its rays on them as generously as it does on the 
miserable hovels of the main street. 

“Devil take the thing!” exclaimed the Captain, thought- 
fully measuring the walls of the factory with his eyes. 
“Tf only ...” Trembling with excitement at the thought 
that had just entered his mind, Aristid Kuvalda jumped up 
and ran to Vaviloff’s eating-house, muttering to himself all 
the time. 

Vaviloff met him at the bar, and gave him a friendly 
welcome. 

“‘T wish your honour good health!” He was of middle 
height, and had a bald head, grey hair, and straight 
moustaches like tooth-brushes. Upright and neat in his 
clean jacket, he showed by every movement that he was an 
old soldier. | 

“Kgorka, show me the lease and plan of your house,” 
demanded Kuvalda, impatiently. | 

“T have shown it you before.” Vaviloff looked up sus- 
piciously and closely scanned the Captain’s face. 

“Show it me!” shouted the Captain, striking the bar 
with his fist and sitting down on a stool close by. 

“But why?’ asked Vaviloff, knowing that it was 
better to keep his wits about him when Kuvalda got 
excited. 

“You fool! Bring it at once.” 


47 


Creatures that once were Men. 


Vaviloff rubbed his forehead, and turned his eyes to the 
ceiling in a tired way. 

‘“‘ Where are those papers of yours? ”’ 

There was no answer to this on the ceiling, so the old 
sergeant looked down at the floor, and began drumming 
with his fingers on the bar in a worried and thoughtful 
manner. 

“Tt’s no good your making wry faces!” shouted the 
Captain, for he had no great affection for him, thinking 
that a former soldier should rather have become a thief 
than an eating-house keeper. 

“Oh! Yes! Aristid Fomich, I remember now. They 
were left at the High Court of Justice at the time when I 
came into possession.” 

“Get along, Egorka! It is to your own interest to show 
me the plan, the title-deeds, and everything you have 
immediately. You will probably clear at least a hundred 
roubles over this, do you understand ?”’ 

Vaviloff did not understand at all; but the Captain spoke 
in such a serious and convincing tone that the sergeant’s 
eyes burned with curiosity, and, telling him that he would 
see if the papers were in his desk, he went through the 
door behind the bar. Two minutes later he returned with 
the papers in his hand, and an expression of extreme 
astonishment on his face. 

“ Here they are; the deeds about the damned houses!”’ 

“Ah! You... vagabond! And you pretend to have 
been a soldier, too!” And Kuvalda did not cease to 
belabour him with his tongue, as he snatched the blue 


48 


Creatures that once were Men. 


parchment from his hands. Then, spreading the papers 
out in front of him, and excited all the more by Vaviloff’s 
inquisitiveness, the Captain began reading and bellowing at 
the same time. At last he got up resolutely, and went to 
the door, leaving all the papers on the bar, and saying to 
Vaviloff : 

“Wait! Don’t lift them!” 

Vaviloff gathered them up, put them into the cash-box, 
and locked it, then felt the lock with his hand, to see if 
if were secure. After that, he scratched his bald head, 
thoughtfully, and went up on the roof of the eating-house. 
There he saw the Captain measuring the front of the 
house, and watched him anxiously, as he snapped his 
fingers, and began measuring the same line over again. 
Vaviloff’s face lit up suddenly, and he smiled happily. 

“‘ Aristid Fomich, is it possible?” he shouted, when the 
Captain came opposite to him. 

“Of course it is possible. There is more than one short 
in the front alone, and as to the depth I shall see imme- 
diately.” 

“The depth . . . seventy-three feet.” 

“What? Have you guessed, you shaved ugly face ? ”’ 

“Of course, Aristid Fomich! If you have eyes you can 
see a thing or two,” shouted Vaviloff, joyfully. 

A few minutes afterwards they sat side by side in 
Vaviloff’s parlour, and the Captain was engaged in drinking 
large quantities of beer. 

“And so all the walls of the factory stand on your 
ground,’’ said he to the eating-house keeper. ‘“‘ Now, mind 


49 3 


Creatures that once were Men. 


you show no mercy! The teacher will be here presently, 
and we will get him to draw up a petition to the court. As 
to the amount of the damages you will name a very 
moderate sum in order not to waste money in deed stamps, 
but we will ask to have the factory knocked down. This, 
you see, donkey, is the result of trespassing on other 
people’s property. It is a splendid piece of luck for you. 
We will force him to have the place smashed, and I can 
tell you it will be an expensive job forhim. Off with you 
to the court. Bring pressure to bear on Judas. We will 
calculate how much it will take to break the factory down 
to its very foundations. We will make an estimate of -it 
all, counting the time it will take too, and we will make 
honest Judas pay two thousand roubles besides.” 

“He will never give it!” cried Vaviloff, but his eyes 
shone with a greedy light. | 

“You lie! He will give it ... Use your brains. . . 
What else can he do? But look here, Egorka, mind you 
don’t go in fordoingiton the cheap. They are sure to try 
to buy you off. Don’t sell yourself cheap. They will pro- 
bably use threats, but rely upon us. . .” 

The Captain’s eyes were alight with happiness, and his 
face red with excitement. He worked upon Vaviloff’s greed, 
and urging upon him the importance of immediate action 


in the matter, went away in a very joyful and happy frame 
of mind. 3 


* * * * * 


In the evening everyone was told of the Captain’s dis- 
covery, and they all began to discuss Petunikoff’s future 


50 


Creatures that once were Men. 


predicament, painting in vivid colours his excitement and 
astonishment on the day the court messenger handed him 
the copy of the summons. The Captain felt himself quite 
a hero. He was happy and all his friends highly pleased. 
The heap of dark and tattered figures that lay in the court- 
yard made noisy demonstrations of pleasure. They all 
knew the merchant, Petunikoff, who passed them very 
often, contemptuously turning up his eyes and giving them 
no more attention than he bestowed on the other heaps of 
rubbish lying on the ground. He was well fed, and that 
exasperated them still more; and now how splendid it was 
that one of themselves had struck a hard blow at the 
selfish merchant’s purse! It gave them all the greatest 
pleasure. The Captain’s discovery was a powerful instru- 
ment in their hands. Every one of them felt keen ani- 
mosity towards all those who were well fed and well 
dressed, but in some of them this feeling was only beginning 
to develop. Burning interest was felt by those “ creatures 
that once were men” in the prospective fight between 
Kuvalda and Petunikoff, which they already saw in imagi- 
nation. ! 

For a fortnight the inhabitants of the dosshouse awaited 
the further development of events, but Petunikoff never 
once visited the building. It was known that he was not 
in town and that the copy of the petition had not yet been 
handed to him. Kuvalda raged at the delays of the civil 
court. It is improbable that anyone had ever awaited the 
merchant with such impatience as did this bare-footed 
brigade. 

51 E 2 


Creatures that once were Men. 


99 


“ He isn’t even thinking of coming, the wretch! .. . 

“'That means that he does not love me!” sang Deacon 
Taras, leaning his chin on his hand and casting a humorous 
glance towards the mountain. 

At last Petunikoff appeared. He came in a respectable 
eart with his son playing the rdle of groom. ‘The latter 
was a red-cheeked, nice-looking youngster, in a long 
_ square-cut overcoat. He wore smoked eyeglasses. They 
tied the horse to an adjoining tree, the son took the 
measuring instrument out of his pocket and gave it to his 
father, and they began to measure the ground. Both were 
silent and worried. 

“‘ Aha!” shouted the Captain, gleefully. 

All those who were in the dosshouse at the moment came 
out to look at them and expressed themselves loudly and 
freely in reference to the matter. 

“What does the habit of thieving mean? A man may 
sometimes make a big mistake when he steals, standing to 
lose more than he gets,’ said the Captain, causing much 
laughter among his staff and eliciting various murmurs of 
assent. 

“Take care, you devil!” shouted Petunikoff, “lest I 
have you in the police court for your words!” 

“You can do nothing to me without witnesses . . . Your 
son cannot give evidence on your side”... the Captain 
warned him. 

“Look out all the same, you old wretch, you may be 
found guilty too!” And Petunikoff shook his fist at him. 
His son, deeply engrossed in his calculations, took no notice 


52 


Creatures that once were Men. 


of the dark group of men, who were taking such a wicked 
delight in adding to his father’s discomfiture. He did not 
even once look in their direction. 

“The young spider has himself well in hand,” remarked 
Abyedok, watching young Petunikoff’s every movement and 
action. Having taken all the measurements he desired, 
Ivan Andreyevitch knit his brows, got into the cart, and 
drove away. His son went with a firm step into Vavilofi’s 
eating-house, and disappeared behind the door. 

“Ho, ho! That’s a determined young thief! ... What 
will happen next, I wonder . . .?”’ asked Kuvalda. 

“Next? Young Petunikoff will buy out Egor Vaviloff,” 
said Abyedok with conviction, and smacked his lips as if the 
idea gave him great pleasure. 

“And you are glad of that?” Kuvalda asked him, gravely. 

“T am always pleased to see human calculations mis- 
carry,” explained Abyedok, rolling his eyes and rubbing 
his hands with delight. The Captain spat angrily on the 
ground and was silent. They all stood in front of the 
tumble-down building, and silently watched the doors of the 
eating-house. More than an hour passed thus. Then the 
doors opened and Petunikoff came out as silently as he had 
entered. He stopped for a moment, coughed, turned up the 
collar of his coat, glanced at the men, who were following 
all his movements with their eyes, and then went up the 
street towards the town. 

The Captain watched him for a moment, and turning to 
Abyedok said, smilingly : 

“Probably you were right after all, you son of a scorpion 

53 


Creatures that once were Men. 


and a wood-louse! You nose out every evil thing. Yes, 
the face of that young swindler shows that he has got what 
he wanted. . . I wonder how much Egorka has got out of 
them. He has evidently taken something. . . He is just 
the same sort of rogue that they are . .. they are all 
tarred with the same brush. He has got some money, and 
I’m damned if I did not arrange the whole thing for him ! 
It is best to own my folly. . . Yes, life is against us all, 
brothers . . . and even when you spit upon those nearest 
to you, the spittle rebounds and hits your own face.” 

Having satisfied himself with this reflection, the worthy 
Captain looked round upon his staff. Every one of them — 
was disappointed, because they all knew that something 
they did not expect had taken place between Petunikoff and 
Vaviloff, and they all felt that they had been insulted. The 
feeling that one is unable to injure anyone is worse than 
the. feeling that one is unable to do good, because to do 
harm is far easier and simpler. 
_ “ Well, why are we loitering here? We have nothing 
more to wait for ... except the reward that I shall get 
out—out of Egorka,. . . ” said the Captain, looking angrily 
at the eating-house. ‘So our peaceful life under the roof 
of Judas has come to an end. Judas will now turn us out. 

. So do not say that I have not warned yore. & | 

Kanots smiled sadly. 

“ What are you laughing at, jailer?” Kuvalda asked. 

“Where shall I go then ?”’ 

“That, my soul, is a question that fate will settle for you, 
so do not worry,” said the Captain, thoughtfully, entering 


54 


Creatures that once were Men. 


the dosshouse. ‘The creatures that once were men” 
followed him. 

“We can do nothing but await the critical moment,” 
said the Captain, walking about among them. ‘“ When 
they turn us out we shall seek a new place for ourselves, 
but at present there is no use spoiling our life by thinking 
of it . . . In times of crisis one becomes energetic .. . 
and if life were fuller of them and every moment of it so 
arranged that we were compelled to tremble for our lives 
all the time ... By God! life would be livelier and 
even fuller of interest and energy than it is!” 

“That means that people would all go about cutting one 
~another’s throats,” explained Abyedok, smilingly. 

Well, what about it?” asked the Captain, angrily. He 
did not like to hear his thoughts illustrated. 

“Oh! Nothing! When a person wants to get anywhere 
quickly he whips up the horses, but of course it needs fire 
to make engines go... ”’ 

“Well, let everything go to the Devil as quickly as 
possible. I’m sure I should be pleased if the earth suddenly 
opened up or was burned or destroyed somehow . 
only I were left to the last in order to see the others con- 
sumed...” 

“Ferocious creature !”’ smiled Abyedok. 

“Well, what of that? I ...tI was once a man.. 
now I am an outcast . . . that means I have no obligations. 
It means that I am free to spit on everyone. The nature 
of my present life means the rejection of my past... 
giving up all relations towards men who are well fed and 


55 


Creatures that once were Men. 


well dressed, and who look upon me with contempt because 
I am inferior to them in the matter of feeding or dressing. 
I must develop something new within myself, do you 
understand? Something that will make Judas Petunikoff 
and his kind tremble and perspire before me!”’ 

“Ah! You havea courageous tongue!” jeered Abyedok. 

“Yes ... You miser!” And Kuvalda looked at him 
contemptuously. ‘What do you understand? What do 
you know? Are you able to think? But I have thought 
and I have read . . . books of which you could not have 
understood one word.” 

“Of course! One cannot eat soup outof one’s hand... 
But though you have read and thought, and I have not 
done that or anything else, we both seem to have got into 
pretty much the same condition, don’t we ?”’ 

“Go to the Devil!” shouted Kuvalda. His conversa- 
tions with Abyedok always ended thus. When the teacher 
was absent his speeches, as a rule, fell on the empty air, 
and received no attention, and he knew this, but still he 
could not help speaking. And now, having quarrelled with 
his companion, he felt rather deserted; but, still longing 
for conversation, he turned to Simtsoff with the following 
question: “And you, Aleksei Maksimovitch, ees will 
you lay your grey head ?” 

The old man smiled good-humouredly, rubbed his hands, 
and replied, ‘I do not know... I will see. One does 
not require much, just a little drink.” : 

“ Plain but honourable fare!” the Captain said. Simtsoff 
was silent, only adding that he would find a place sooner 

56 


Creatures that once were Men. 


than any of them, because women loved him. This was 
true. The old man had, as a rule, two or three prostitutes, 
who kept him on their very scant earnings. They very often 
beat him, but he took this stoically. They somehow never 
beat him too much, probably because they pitied him. 
He was a great lover of women, and said they were 
the cause of all his misfortunes. The character of 
his relations towards them was confirmed by the appear- 
ance of his clothes, which, as a rule, were tidy, and 
cleaner than those of his companions. And now, sitting 
at the door of the dosshouse, he boastingly related that for 
a long time past Redka had been asking him to go and live 
with her, but he had not gone because he did not want to 
part with the company. They heard this with jealous 
interest. They all knew Redka. She lived very near the 
town, almost below the mountain. Not long ago, she had 
been in prison for theft. She was a retired nurse; a tall, 
stout peasant woman, with a face marked by smallpox, but 
with very pretty, though always drunken, eyes. 

“Just look at the old devil!” swore Abyedok, looking at 
Simtsoff, who was smiling in a self-satisfied way. 

“And do you know why they love me? Because I know 
how to cheer up their souls.” 

“Do you?” inquired Kuvalda. 

“And I can make them pity me. ... And a woman, 
when she pities! Go and weep to her, and ask her to kill 
you... she will pity you—and she will kill you.” 

“T feel inclined to commit a murder,’ declared Mar- 
tyanoff, laughing his dull laugh. 

57 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“Upon whom?” asked Abyedok, edging away from 
him. | 

“Tt’s all the same to me... Petunikoff . . . Egorka 

. or even you!” ane, 

“And why?” inquired Kuvalda. 

“‘T want to go to Siberia . . . I have had enough of this 
vile life . . . one learns how to live there!” 

“Yes, they have a particularly good way of teaching in 
Siberia,” agreed the Captain, sadly. 

They spoke no more of Petunikoff, or of the turning out 
of the inhabitants of the dosshouse. They: all knew that 
they would have to leave soon, therefore they did not think 
the matter worth discussion. It would do no good, and 
besides the weather was not very cold though the rains 
had begun .. . and it would be possible to sleep on. the 
ground anywhere outside the town. ‘They sat in a circle © 
on the grass and conversed about all sorts of things, dis- 
cussing one subject after another, and listening attentively 
even to the poor speakers in order to make the time pass; 
keeping quiet was as dull as listening. This society of 
“creatures that once were men”’ had one fine characteristic 
—no one of them endeavoured to make out that he was 
better than the others, nor compelled the others to acknow- 
ledge his superiority. 

The August sun seemed to set their tatters on fire as 
they sat with their backs and uncovered heads exposed to 
it ...a chaotic mixture of the vegetable, mineral, and 
animal kingdoms. In the corners of the yard the tall 
steppe grass grew luxuriantly. . .. Nothing else grew 

58 


Creatures that once were Men. 


there but some dingy vegetables, not even attractive to 
those who nearly always felt the pangs of hunger. 


* * * * * 


The following was the scene that took place in Vaviloff’s 
- eating-house. 

Young Petunikoff entered slowly, took off his hat, looked 
around him, and said to the eating-house keeper : 

“Egor Terentievitch Vaviloff? Are you he ?”’ 
_ “Tam,” answered the sergeant, leaning on the bar with 
both arms as if intending to jump over it. 

“‘T have some business with you,” said Petunikoff. 

“ Delighted. Please come this way to my private room.” 

They went in and sat down, the guest on the couch and 
his host on the chair opposite to him. In one corner a lamp 
was burning before a gigantic icon, and on the wall at the 
other side there were several oil lamps. They were well 
kept and shone as if they were new. The room, which 
contained a number of boxes and a variety of furniture, 
smelt of tobacco, sour cabbage, and olive oil. Petunikoff 
looked around him and made a face. Vaviloff looked at the 
icon, and then they looked simultaneously at one another, and 
both seemed to be favourably impressed. Petunikoff liked 
Vaviloff’s frankly thievish eyes, and Vaviloff was pleased 
with the open, cold, determined face of Petunikoff, with its 
large cheeks and white teeth. 

“Of course you already know me, and I presume you 
guess what I am going to say to you,” began Petunikoff. 


39 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“About the lawsuit? ... I presume?” remarked the 
ex-sergeant, respectfully. 

“Exactly! Iam glad to see that you are not beating 
about the bush, but going straight to the point like a 
business man,” said Petunikoff, encouragingly. 

‘‘T am a soldier,” answered Vaviloff, with a modest air. 

“That is easily seen, and I am sure we shall be able to 
finish this job without much trouble.” 

** Just so.’ 

“Good! You have the law on your side, and will, of 
course, win your case. I want to tell you this at the very 
beginning.” 

“JT thank you most humbly,” said the sergeant, rubbing 
his eyes in order to hide the smile in them. 

“But tell me, why did you make the acquaintance of 
your future neighbours like this through the law courts ?” 

Vaviloff shrugged his shoulders and did not answer. 

“Tt would have been better to come straight to us 
and settle the matter peacefully, eh? What do you 
think ?”’ 

“That would have been better, of course, but you see 
there is a difficulty ... Idid not follow my own ‘wishes, 
but those of others . .. I learned afterwards that it would 
have been better if . . . but it was too late.” 

“Oh! I suppose some lawyer taught you this?” 

“Someone of that sort.” 

“Aha! Do you wish to settle the affair peacefully ?”’ 

“With all my heart !”’ cried the soldier. 

Petunikoff was silent for a moment, then looked at him, 

60 


Creatures that once were Men. 


and suddenly asked, coldly and drily, ‘ And why do you wish 
to do so?”’ 

Vaviloff did not expect such a question, and therefore had 
no reply ready. In his opinion the question was quite 
unworthy of any attention, and so he laughed at young 
- Petunikoff. 

“That is easy to understand. Men like to live peace- 
fully with one another.” 

“ But,” interrupted Petunikoff, “that is not exactly the 
reason why. As far as I can see, you do not distinctly 
understand why you wish to be reconciled to us... I 
will tell you.” 

The soldier was a little surprised. This youngster, 
dressed in a check suit, in which he looked ridiculous, 
spoke as if he were Colonel Rakshin, who used to knock 
three of the unfortunate soldier’s teeth out every time he 
was angry. 

“You want to be friends with us because we should be 
such useful neighbours to you ... because there will be 
not less than a hundred and fifty workmen in our factory, 
and in course of time even more. If a hundred men come 
and drink one glass at your place, after receiving their 
weekly wages, that means that you will sell every month 
four hundred glasses more than you sell at present. This 
is, of course, the lowest estimate . ... and then you have 
the eating-house besides. You are not a fool, and you can 
understand for yourself. what profitable neighbours we 
shall be.” 

“That is true,” Vaviloff nodded, ‘ I knew that before.” 

61 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“Well, what then ?” asked the merchant, loudly. 

“Nothing . . . Let us be friends!” 

“Tt is nice to see that you have decided so quickly. 
Look here, I have already prepared a notification to the 
court of the withdrawal of the summons against my father. 
Here it is; read it, and sign it.” 

Vaviloff looked at his companion with his round eyes and 
shivered, as if experiencing an unpleasant sensation. 

‘Pardon me... signit? And why?” 

“There is no difficulty about it . . . write your Christian 
name and surname and nothing more,” explained Petuni- 
koff, pointing obligingly with his finger to the place for the 
signature. 

“Oh! Itis not that . .. I was alluding to the compen- 
sation I was to get for my ground.” 

“ But then this ground is of no use to you,” said Petuni- 
koff, calmly. 

‘“‘ But it is mine!” exclaimed the soldier. | 

“Of course, and how much do you want for it?” 

“Well, say the amount stated in the document,” said 
Vaviloff, boldly. 

“‘ Six hundred !”’ and Petunikoff smiled softly. ‘‘ You are 
a funny fellow!” 

“The law is on my side. ..Ican even demand two 
thousand. I can insist on your pulling down the building 

. and enforce it too. That is why my claim is so small. 
I demand that you should pull it down!” 

“Very well. Probably we shall do so... after three 

years, and after having dragged you into enormous law 
62 | 


Creatures that once were Men. 


expenses. And then, having paid up, we shall open our 
public-house and you will be ruined . . . annihilated like 
the Swedes at Poltava. We shall see that you are ruined .. . 
we will take good care of that. We could have begun to 
arrange about a public-house now, but you see our time is 
valuable, and besides we are sorry for you. Why should 
we take the bread out of your mouth without any reason ?”’ 

Egor Terentievitch looked at his guest, clenching his 
teeth, and felt that he was master of the situation, and held 
his fate in his hands. Vaviloff was full of pity for himself 
at having to deal with this calm, cruel figure in the checked 
suit. 

“And being such a near neighbour you might have 
gained a good deal by helping us, and we should have 
remembered it too. Even now, for instance, I should advise 
you to open a small shop for tobacco, you know, bread, 
cucumbers, and so on. . . All these are sure to be in great 
demand.” | 

Vaviloff listened, and being a clever man, knew that to 
throw himself upon the enemy’s generosity was the better 
plan. It was as well to begin from the beginning, and, 
not knowing what else to do to relieve his mind, the soldier 
began to swear at Kuvalda. 

“Curses be upon your head, you drunken rascal! May 
the Devil take you!” 

“Do you mean the lawyer who composed your peti- 
tion?” asked Petunikoff, calmly, and added, with a sigh, , 
“T have no doubt he would have landed you in rather an 
awkward fix ... had we not taken pity upon you.” 


63 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“Ah!” And the angry soldier raised his hand. ‘“ There 
are two of them ... One of them discovered it, the other 
wrote the petition, the accursed reporter !”’ 

‘Why the reporter ?”’ 

“He writes for the papers ... He is one of your 
lodgers . . . there they all are outside .. . Clear them 
away, for Christ’s sake! The robbers! They disturb and 
annoy everyone in the street. One cannot live for them... 
And they are all desperate fellows ... You had better 
take care, or else they will rob or burn you... .” 

‘And this reporter, who is he?”’ asked Petunikoff, with 
interest. | 

“He? A drunkard. He was a teacher but was dis- 
missed. He drank everything he possessed . . . and now 
he writes for the papers and composes petitions. He is a 
very wicked man!” 

“H’m! And did he write 5 your petition, too? I suppose 
it was he who discovered the flaws in the building. The 
beams were not rightly put in?” 

“He did! I know it for a fact! The dog! He read 
it aloud in here and boasted, ‘ Now I have caused Petunikoff 
some loss !’” | 

“Ye—es. . . Well, then, do you want to be reconciled ?” 

“To be reconciled?” The soldier lowered his head 
and thought. “Ah! This isa hard life!” said he, ina 
querulous voice, scratching his head. 

“One must learn by experience,” Petunikoff reassured 
him, He a cigarette. 

“Learn... It is not that, my dear sir; but aout you 


64 


Creatures that once were Men. 


see there is nofreedom? Don’t you see what a life I lead ‘ 
I live in fear and trembling. . . I am refused the freedom 
so desirable to me in my movements, and I fear this ghost 
of a teacher will write about mein the papers. Sanitary 
inspectors will be called for ... fines will have to be 
paid .. . or else your lodgers will set fire to the place or 
rob and kill me . . . Iam powerless against them. They 
are not the least afraid of the police, and they like going 
to prison, because they get their food for nothing there.” 

“But then we will have them turned out if we come to 
terms with you,” promised Petunikoff. 

“What shall we arrange, then?” asked Vaviloff, sadly 
and seriously. 

“Tell me your terms.” 

“Well, give me the six hundred mentioned in the claim.” 

*Won’t you take a hundred roubles?” asked the mer- 
chant, calmly, looking attentively at his companion, and 
smiling softly. ‘I will not give you one rouble more,”... 
he added. 

After this, he took out his eye-glasses, and began clean- 
ing them with his handkerchief. Vaviloff looked at him 
sadly and respectfully. The calm face of Petunikoff, his 
grey eyes and clear complexion, every line of his thickset 
body betokened self-confidence and a well-balanced mind. 
Vaviloff also liked Petunikoff’s straightforward manner of 
addressing him without any pretensions, as if he were his 
own brother, though Vaviloff understood well enough that 
he was his superior, he being only a soldier. Looking at 
him, he grew fonder and fonder of him, and, forgetting for a 
65 Fr 


Creatures that once were Men. 


moment the matter in hand, respectfully asked Petunikoff : 

“Where did you study?” 

“In the technological institute. Why?” answered the 
other, smiling: 

“Nothing. Only ... excuse me!” The soldier lowered 
his head, and then suddenly exclaimed, “What a splendid 
thing education is! Science—light. My brother, Iam as 
stupid as an owl before the sun... Your honour, let us 
finish this job.”’ 

With an air of decision he stretched out his hand to 
Petunikoff and said: 

“Well, five hundred ? ” 

“Not more than one hundred roubles, Egor Terentie- 
vitch.”’ 

Petunikoff shrugged his shoulders as if sorry at being 
unable to give more, and touched the soldier’s hairy hand 
with his long white fingers. They soon ended the matier, 
for the soldier gave in quickly and met Petunikoff’s wishes. 
And when Vaviloff had received the hundred roubles and 
signed the paper, he threw the pen down on the table and 
said, bitterly : 

“ Now I will have a nice time! They will laugh at me, 
they will cry shame on me, the devils!”’ 

‘But you tell them that I paid all your claim,” suggested 
Petunikoff, calmly puffing out clouds of smoke and wate 
ing them float upwards. | 

‘But do you think they will believe it? They are as 
clever swindlers if not worse .. .” 

-Vaviloff stopped himself in time before making the 
66 


Creatures that once were Men. 


- intended comparison, and looked at the merchant’s son in 
terror. The other smoked on, and seemed to be absorbed 
in that occupation. He went away soon, promising 
to destroy the nest of vagabonds. Vaviloff looked after 
him and sighed, feeling as if he would like to shout some 
insult at the young man who was going with such firm » 
steps towards the steep road, encumbered with its ditches 
and heaps of rubbish. ; 

In the evening the Captain appeared in the eating-house. 
His eyebrows were knit and his fist clenched. Vaviloff 
smiled at him in a guilty manner. 

“Well, worthy descendant of Judas and Cain, tellus. . .” 

“They decided” .. . said Vaviloff, sighing and lower- 
ing his eyes. 

“T don’t doubt it; how many silver pieces did you 
receive ?”” 

“Four hundred roubles” ... 

“Of course you are lying . . . But all the better for me. 
Without any further words, Egorka, ten per cent. of it for 
my discovery, four per cent. to the teacher for writing the 
petition, one ‘ vedro’ of vodki to all of us, and refreshments 
all round. Give me the money now, the vodkiand refresh- 
ments will do at eight o’clock.” 

Vaviloff turned purple with rage, and stared at Kuvalda 
with wide-open eyes. 

“This is humbug! This is robbery! I will do nothing 
of the sort. What do you mean, Aristid Fomich? Keep 
your appetite for the next feast! Iam not afraid of you 


paw es 
67 F 2 


Creatures that once were Men. 


Kuvalda looked at the clock. 

“T give you ten minutes, Egorka, for your idiotic talk. 
Finish your nonsense by that time and give me what I 
demand. If you don’t I will devour you! Kanets has sold 
you something? Did you read in the paper about the 
theft at Basoff’s house? Do you understand? You won't 
have time to hide anything, we will not ‘let you . .. and 
this very night . . . do you understand ?”’ 

“Why, Aristid Fomich?” sobbed the discomfited 
merchant. 

‘“‘No more words! Did you understand or not?” 

Tall, grey, and imposing, Kuvalda spoke in half whispers, 
and his deep bass voice rang through the house. Vaviloff 
always feared him because he was not only a retired military 
man, but a man who had nothing to lose. But now Kuvalda 
appeared before him in a new réle. He did not speak 
much, and jocosely as usual, but spoke in the tone of a 
commander, who was convinced of the other’s guilt. And 
Vaviloff felt that the Captain could and would ruin him 
with the greatest pleasure. He must needs bow before this 
power. But, nevertheless, the soldier thought of trying 
him once more. He sighed deeply, and began with 
apparent calmness: 

“Tt is truly said that a man’s sin will find him out... 
I lied to you, Aristid Fomich, . . . I tried to be cleverer 
thanI am .. . I only received one hundred roubles.” 

“Goon!” said Kuvalda. 

‘And not four hundred as I told you . . . That means 


68 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“Tt does not mean anything. It is all the same to me 
whether you lied or not. You owe me sixty-five roubles. 
That is not much, eh?” 

“Oh! my Lord! Aristid Fomich! I have always been 
attentive to your honour and done my best to please you.” 

“Drop all that, Egorka, grandchild of Judas!” 

“All right! JI will give it you... only God will 
punish you for this. . . .” 

“Silence! You rotten pimple of the earth!” shouted 
the Captain, rolling his eyes. ‘‘He has punished me 
enough already in forcing me to have conversation with 
you. .. . I will kill you on the spot like a fly!” 

He shook his fist in Vaviloff’s face and ground his teeth 
till they nearly broke. 

After he had gone Vaviloff began smiling and winking to 
himself. Then two large drops rolled down his cheeks. 
They were greyish, and they hid themselves in his 
moustache, whilst two others followed them. Then Vaviloff 
went into his own room and stood before the icon, stood 
there without praying, immovable, with the salt tears 
running down his wrinkled brown cheeks. .. . 


* * * * * 


Deacon Taras, who, as a rule, loved to loiter in the woods 
and fields, proposed to the “‘ creatures that once were men”’ 
that they should go together into the fields, and there 
drink Vaviloff’s vodki in the bosom of Nature. But the 

69 


Creatures that once were Men. 


Captain and all the rest swore at the Deacon, and decided 
to drink it in the courtyard. 

“One, two, three,’ counted Aristid Fomich; “our full 
number is thirty, the teacher is not here . . . but probably 
many other outcasts will come. Let us calculate, say, 
twenty persons, and to every person two-and-a-half cucum- 
bers, a pound of bread, and a pound of meat... That 
won’t be bad! One bottle of vodki each, and there is 
plenty of sour cabbage, and three watermelons. I ask you, 
what the devil could you want more, my scoundrel friends ? 
Now, then, let us prepare to devour Egorka Vaviloff, 
because all this is his blood and body!” 

They spread some old clothes on the ground, setting 
the delicacies and the drink on them, and sat around the 
feast, solemnly and quietly, but almost unable to control 
the craving for drink that shone in their eyes. 

The evening began to fall, and its shadows were cast on 
the human refuse of the earth in the courtyard of the doss- 
house ; the last rays of the sun illumined the roof of the 
tumble-down building. The night was cold and silent. 

“Let us begin, brothers!’’ commanded the Captain. 
‘““How many cups have we? Six... and there are thirty 
of us! Aleksei Maksimovitch, pour it out. Is it ready? 
Now then, the first toast. . . Come along!” 

They drank and shouted, and began to eat. 

“The teacher is not here. . . I have not seen him for 
three days. Has anyone seen him?” asked Kuyalda. 

“No one.” | 

“Tt is unlike ... Let us drink to the health of Aristid 


7O 


Creatures that once were Men. 


Kuvalda . . . the only friend who has never deserted me 
for one moment of my life! Devil take him all the same! 
I might have had something to wear had he left my society 
at least for a little while.” 

“You are bitter . . .’’ said Abyedok, and coughed. 

The Captain, with his feeling of superiority to the others, 
never talked with his mouth full. 

Having drunk twice, the company began to grow merry ; 
the food was grateful to them. 

Paltara Taras expressed his desire to hear a tale, but the 
Deacon was arguing with Kubaroff over his preferring thin 
women to stout ones, and paid no attention to his friend’s 
request. He was asserting his views on the subject to 
Kubaroff with all the decision of a man who was deeply 
convinced in his own mind. 

The foolish face of Meteor, who was lying on the ground, 
showed that he was drinking in the Deacon’s strong words. 

Martyanoff sat, clasping his large hairy hands round his 
knees, looking silently and sadly at the bottle of vodki and 
pulling his moustache as if trying to bite it with his teeth, 
_while Abyedok was teasing Tyapa. | : 

“T have seen you ee the place where your money 
is hidden!” 

“ That is your luck,” shouted Tyapa. 

*T will go halves with you, brother.” 

* All right, take it and welcome.” 

Kuvalda felt angry with these men. Among them all 
there was not one worthy of hearing his Or AWEY, or of 
understanding him. : 


7i 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“T wonder where the teacher is?” he asked loudly. - 
Martyanoff looked at him and said, ‘‘ He will come soon” 


“Tam positive that he will come, but he won’t come in 
a carriage.’ Let us drink to your future health. If 
you kill any rich man go halves with me... then I 
shall go td America, brother. To those ... what do 
you call them? lLimpas? Pampas? I will go there, 
and I will work my way until I become the President 
of the United States, and then I will challenge the whole 
of HKurope to war and I will blow itup! I will buy the 
army . . . in Europe that is—I will invite the French, 
the Germans, the Turks, and so on, and I will kill them 
by the hands of their own relatives. . . Just as Elia 
Marumets bought a Tartar with a Tartar. With money 
it would be possible even for Elia to destroy the whole of 
Kurope and.to take Judas Petunikoff for his valet. He 
would go. . . Give him a hundred roubles a month and 
he would go! But he would be a bad valet, because he 
would soon begin to steal . . .” 

“Now, besides that, the thin woman is better than the 
stout one, because she costs one less,” said the Deacon, 
convincingly. “My first Deaconess used to buy twelve 
arshins for her clothes, but the second one only ten... 
And so on even in the matter of provisions and food.” 

Paltara Taras smiled guiltily. Turning his head towards 
the Deacon and looking straight at him, he said, with 
conviction : | | 

“T had a wife once, too.” 


72 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“Oh! That happens to everyone,” remarked Kuvalda ; 
“but go on with your lies.”’ 

“She was thin, but she ate a lot, and even died from 
over-eating.” | 

“You poisoned her, .you hunchback!” said Abyedok, 
confidently. s 

“No, by God! It was from eating sturgeon,” said 
Paltara Taras. 

“But I say that you poisoned her!” declared Abyedok, 
decisively. It often happened, that having said something 
absolutely impossible and without proof, he kept on re- 
peating it, beginning in a childish, capricious tone, and 
gradually raising his voice to a mad shriek. 

_ The Deacon stood up for his friend. “No; he did not 
poison her. He had no reason to do so.” 

“ But I say that he poisoned her!” swore Abyedok. 

“Silence!” shouted the Captain, threateningly, becoming 
still angrier. He looked at his friends with his blinking 
eyes, and not discovering anything to further provoke his 
rage in their half-tipsy faces, he lowered his head, sat still 
for a little while, and then turned over on his back on the 
ground. Meteor was biting cucumbers. He took a 
cucumber in his hand without looking at it, put nearly 
half of it into his mouth, and bit it with his yellow teeth, 
so that the juice spurted out in all directions and ran over 
his cheeks. He did not seem to want to eat, but this 
process pleased him. Martyanoff sat motionless on the 
ground, like a statue, and looked in a dull manner at the 
half-vedro bottle, already getting empty. Abyedok lay on 


73 


Creatures that once were Men. 


his belly and coughed, shaking all over his small body. 
The rest of the dark, silent figures sat and lay around in 
all sorts of positions, and their tatters made them look like 
untidy animals, created by some strange, uncouth deity to 
make a mockery of man. 


‘¢ There once lived a lady in Suzdale, 
A strange lady, 
She fell into hysterics, 
- Most unpleasantly !” 


sang the Deacon in low tones embracing Aleksei Maksimo- 
vitch, who was smiling kindly into his face. 

Paltara Taras giggled voluptuously. 

The night was approaching. High up in the sky the 
stars were shining .. . and on the mountain and in the 
town the lights of the lamps were appearing. The whistles 
of the steamers were heard all over the river, and the doors 
of Vaviloff’s eating-house opened noisily. Two dark figures 
entered the courtyard, and one of them asked in a hoarse 
voice: 

‘Are you drinking?” And the other said in a jealous 
aside : 

*‘ Just see what devils they are!” 

Then a hand stretched over the Deacon’s head and took 
~ away the bottle, and the characteristic sound of vodki being 
poured into a glass was heard. Then they all protested 
loudly. 

“Oh this is sad!” shouted the Deacon. ‘“ Krivoi, let us 
remember the ancients! Let us sing ‘On the Banks of the 
Babylonian Rivers.’ ”’ 


74 





Creatures that once were Men. 


“ But can he?” asked Simtsoff. 

“He? He was achorister in the Bishop’s choir. Now 
then, Krivoi! . . . “On the r-i-v-e-r-s ” The Deacon’s 
voice was loud and hoarse and cracked, but his friend sang 
in a shrill falsetto. 

The dirty building loomed large in the darkness and 
seemed to be coming nearer, threatening the singers, who 
were arousing its dull echoes. The heavy, pompous clouds 
were floating in the sky over their heads. One of the 
“creatures that once were men” was snoring; the rest, not 
yet so drunk, ate and drank quietly or spoke to each other 
at long intervals. 

It was unusual for them to be in such low spirits during 
- such a feast, with so much yodki. Somehow the drink to- 
- night did not seem to have its usual exhilarating effect. 
 €Stop howling, you dogs!” ... said the Captain to 

the singers, raising his head from the ground to listen 
“Some one is passing . . . ina droshky. . . .” 

A droshky at such a time in the main street could not 
but attract general attention. Who would risk crossing the 
ditches between it and the town, and why? = They all 
raised their heads and listened. In the silence of the night 
the wheels were distinctly heard. They came wilson in 
nearer. <A voice was heard asking roughly: 

“Well, where then ? 

Someone answered, “ It must be there, that house.”’ 

“T shall not go any further.” 

“They are coming here!’’ shouted the Captain. 

** The police! ’’ someone whispered in great alarm. 


79 





Creatures that once were Men. 


“In adroshky! Fool!’ said Martyanoff, quietly. 

Kuvalda got up and went to the entrance. 

“Ts this a lodging-house ?”’ asked someone, in a trembling 
voice. 

“Yes. Belonging to Aristid Kuvalda ...” said the 
Captain, roughly. | 

“Oh! Dida reporter, one Titoff, live here?” 

“Aha! Have you brought him ?” 

Oh I eich 

“ Drunk?” 

ah BT Rs 

‘‘That means he is very drunk. Ay, teacher! Now, 
then, get up!” : 

“Wait, I will help you... He is veryill... he has 
been with me for the last two days . .. Take him under 
the arms . . . The doctor has seen him. He is very bad.” 

Tyapa got up and walked to the entrance, but Abyedok 
laughed, and took another drink. 

“ Strike a light, there!” shouted the Captain. 

Meteor went into the house and lighted the lamp. Then a 
thin line of light streamed out over the courtyard, and the 
Captain and another man managed to get the teacher into 
the dosshouse. His head was hanging on his breast, his 
feet trailed on the ground, and his arms hung limply as if 
broken. With Tyapa’s help they placed him on a wide 
board. He was shivering all over. 

“We worked on the same paper . . . he is very unlucky. 

. I said, ‘Stay in my house, you are not in my way,’ 
. but he begged me to send him ‘home.’ He was so 
76 


Creatures that once were Men. 


excited about it that I brought him here, thinking it might 
do him good. . . Home! This is it, isn’t it?” 

“Do you suppose he has a home anywhere else?”’ 

asked Kuvalda, roughly, looking at his friend. ‘‘ Tyapa, 
fetch me some cold water.” 
_ “T fancy I am of no more use,” remarked the man in 
some confusion. The Captain looked at him critically. His 
clothes were rather shiny, and tightly buttoned up to his 
chin. His trousers were frayed, his hat almost yellow with 
age and crumpled like his lean and hungry face. 

“No, you are not necessary! We have plenty like you 
here,” said the Captain, turning away. : 

“Then, good-bye!’’ The man went to the door, and 
said quietly from there, “If anything happens . . . let me 
know in the publishing office... My name is Rijoff. I 
might write a short obituary... You see he was an 
active member of the Press.” 

“H’m, an obituary, you say? Twenty lines forty 
kopecks? I will do more than that. When he dies I will 
cut off one of his legs and send it to you. That will be much 
more profitable than an obituary. It will last you for three 
days. .. His legs are fat. You devoured him when he 
was alive. You may as well continue to do so after he is 
dead . . .”’ 

The man sniffed strangely and disappeared. The Captain 
sat down on the wooden board beside the teacher, felt his 
forehead and breast with his hands and called “ Philip!” 
The sound re-echoed from the dirty walls of the doss- 

house and died away. 


77 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“This is absurd, brother,” said the Captain, quietly 
arranging the teacher’s untidy hair with his hand. Then 
the Captain listened to his breathing, which was rapid and 
uneven, and looked at his sunken grey face. He sighed and 
looked upon him, knitting his eyebrows. The lamp was a 
bad one. .. The light was fitful, and dark shadows 
flickered on the dosshouse walls. The Captain watched 
them, scratching his beard. Tyapa returned bringing a 
vedro of water, and placing it by the teacher’s head, he took 
his arm as if to raise him up. 

“The water is not necessary,” and the Captain shook his 
head. 

“But we must try to revive him,” said the old rag- 
collector. 

“‘ Nothing is. needed,” said the Captain, decidedly. 

They sat silently looking at the teacher. 

“ Let us go and drink, old devil!” 

“ But he?” 

“Can you do him any good ?” 

Tyapa turned his back on the teacher, and both went out 
into the courtyard to their companions. 

“What is it?’ asked Abyedok, turning his sharp nose 
to the old man. The snoring of those who were asleep, and 
the tinkling sound of pouring vodki was heard. . . The 
Deacon was murmuring something. The clouds swam 
low, so low that it seemed as if they would touch the 
roof of the house and knock it over on the group of 
men. 

“Ah! One feels sad when someone near at hand is 


78 








Creatures that once were Men. 


dying,” faltered the Captain, with his head down. No one 
answered him. 

“He was the best among you... the cleverest, the 
most respectable. . . I mourn for him.” 

“ Re-s-t with the Saints. . . Sing, you crooked hunch- 
back !’’ roared the Deacon, digging his friend in the ribs. 

“Be quiet!’”’ shouted Abyedok, jumping vengefully to 
his feet. 

“T will give him one on the head,” proposed Martyanoff, 
raising his head from the ground. 

“You are not asleep?” Aristid Fomich asked him very 
softly. ‘‘ Have you heard about our teacher ?” 

Martyanoff lazily got up from the ground, looked at the 
line of light coming out of the dosshouse, shook his head 
and silently sat down beside the Captain. 

“Nothing particular. .. The man is dying...’ re- 
marked the Captain, shortly. 

“Have they been beating him?” asked Abyedok, with 
great interest. The Captain gave no answer. He was 
drinking vodki at the moment. ‘They must have known 
we had something in which to commemorate him after his 
death !”’ continued Abyedok, lighting a cigarette. Some- 
one laughed, someone sighed. Generally speaking, the 
conversation of Abyedok and the Captain did not interest 
them, and they hated having to think at all. They had . 
always felt the teacher to be an uncommon man, but now 
many of them were drunk and the others sad and silent. 


Only the Deacon suddenly drew himself up straight and 
howled wildly : 


79 


Creatures that once were Men. 





“And may the righteous r—e—s—+t! ”’ 

“You idiot!’ hissed Abyedok. ‘ What are you howling 
for?” 

“Fool!” said Tyapa’s hoarse voice. ‘ When a man is 
dying one must be quiet . . . so that he may have peace.” 

Silence reigned once more. The cloudy sky threatened 
thunder, and the earth was covered with the thick darkness 
— of an autumn night. 

“Let us go on drinking!” proposed Kuvalda, filling up 
the glasses. | 7 

“T will go and see if he wants anything,” said Tyapa. 

“He wants a coffin!” jeered the Captain. 

“Don’t speak about that,” begged Abyedok in a low 
voice. 

Meteor rose and followed Tyapa. The Deacon tried to 
get up, but fell and swore loudly. _ 

When Tyapa had gone the Captain touched Martyanoff’s 
shoulder and said in low tones: | 

‘Well, Martyanoff ... You must feel it more than the 
others. You were... But let that go to the Devil... 
Don’t you pity Philip?” 

“No,” said the ex-jailer, quietly, “I do not feel things of 
this sort, brother . . . I have learned better . . . this life 
is disgusting after all. I speak seriously when I say that I 
should like to kill someone.” ; 

“Do you?” said the Captain, indistinctly. “Well... 
let’s have another drink... It’s not a long job ours, 
a little drink and then . . .” ? | 

The others began to wake up, and Simtsoff shouted in a 

80 


Creatures that once were Men. 


blissful voice: ‘ Brothers! One of you pour out a glass for 
the old man!” 

They poured out a glass and gave’it to him. Having 
drunk it he tumbled down again, knocking against another 
man as he fell. Two or three minutes’ silence ensued, 
dark as the autumn night. 

What do you say?” 

“T say that he was a good man... a quiet and good 
man,” whispered a low voice. 

‘Yes, and he had money, too . . . and he never refused 
it toafriend...’’ Again silence ensued. 

“He is dying!.” said Tyapa, hoarsely, from behind the 
Captain’s head. Aristid Fomich got up, and went with 
firm steps into the dosshouse. 

“Don’t go!” Tyapa stopped him. “Don’t go! You 
are drunk! It is not right.” The Captain stopped and 
thought. 

** And what is right on this earth? Go to the Devil!”’ 
And he pushed Tyapa aside. 

On the walls of the dosshouse the shadows were 
creeping, seeming to chase each other. The teacher lay on 
the board at full length and snored. His eyes were wide 
open, his naked breast rose and fell heavily, the corners of 
- his mouth foamed, and on his face was an expression as 
if he wished to say something very important, but found it 
dificult to do so. The Captain stood with his hands 
behind him, and looked at him in silence. He then began 
in a silly way : 

“Philip! Say something tome... a word of comfort 
81 @ 


Creatures that once were Men. 


toa friend . .. come... . I love you, brother! ... All 
men are beasts. . . . You were the only man forme... 
though you were a drunkard. Ah! how you did drink 
vodki, Philip! That was the ruin of you! You ought to 
have listened to me, and controlled yourself. ... Did I 
not once say to you. . .?” 

The mysterious, all-destroying reaper, called Death, 
made up his mind to finish the terrible work quickly, as if 
insulted by the presence of this drunken man at the dark 
and solemn struggle. The teacher sighed deeply, and 
quivered all over, stretched himself out, and died. The — 
Captain stood shaking to and fro, and continued to talk to 
him. 

“Do you want me to bring you vodki? But it is better 
that you should not drink, Philip . . . control yourself or 
else drink! Why should you really control yourself? For 
what reason, Philip? For what reason?” 

He took him by the foot and drew him closer to himself. 

“Are you dozing, Philip? Well, then, sleep.... 
Good-night. . . . To-morrow I shall explain all this to 
you, and you will understand that it is not really necessary 
to deny yourself anything. ... But go on sleeping now 

. if you are not dead.” 

He went out to his friends, followed by the deep silence, 
and informed them: 

‘Whether he is sleeping or dead, I do not know. ... I 
am a little drunk.” 

Tyapa bent further forward than usual and crossed him- 
self respectfully. Martyanoff dropped to the ground and 

82 . | | 


Creatures that once were Men. 


lay there. Abyedok moved quietly, and said in a low and 


~ wicked tone: 


“May you all go to the Devil! Dead? What of that ? 


Why should I care? Why should I speak about it? It 


will be time enough when I come to die myself. . . . Iam 
not worse than other people.” 

“That is true,” said the Captain, loudly, and fell to the 
ground. ‘“ The time will come when we shall all die like 
others. ... Ha! ha! How shall we live? . .. That is 
nothing. . . . But we shall die like every one else, and 
this is the whole end of life, take my word for it. A man 
lives only to die, and he dies . . . and if this be so what 
does it matter how or where he died or how he lived? Am 
I right, Martyanoff? Let us therefore drink ... whilst 
we still have life !”’ 

The rain began to fall. Thick, close darkness covered 
the figures that lay scattered over the ground, half drunk, 
half asleep. The light in the windows of the dosshouse 
flickered, paled, and suddenly disappeared. Probably the 
wind blew it out or else the oil was exhausted. The drops 
of rain sounded strangely on the iron roof of the dosshouse. 
Above the mountain where the town lay the ringing of bells 
was heard, rung by the watchers in the churches. The 
brazen sound coming from the belfry rang out into the 
dark and died away, and before its last indistinct note was 
drowned another stroke was heard and the monotonous 
silence was again broken by the melancholy clang of bells. 


* #* , % * * 


83 Ga 2 


Creatures that once were Men. 


The next morning Tyapa was the first to wake up. Lying 
on his back he looked up into the sky. Only in such a 
position did his deformed neck permit him to see the clouds 
above his head. 

This morning the sky was of a uniform grey. Up there 
hung the damp, cold mist of dawn, almost extinguishing 
the sun, hiding the unknown vastness behind and pouring 
despondency over the earth. Tyapa crossed himself, and 
leaning on his elbow, looked round to see whether there 
was any vodki left. The bottle was there, but it was 
empty. Crossing over his companions he looked into the 
glasses from which they had drunk, found one of them 
almost full, emptied it, wiped his lips with his sleeve, and 
began to shake the Captain. 

The Captain raised his head and looked at him with sad 
eyes. 

‘We must inform the police... Get up!” 

“Of what? ’’ asked the Captain, sleepily and angrily. 

“What, is he not dead?”’... 

“Who?” 

“The learned one.” .. . 

“Philip? Ye-es!”’ 

“Did you forget?. . . Alas!’ said Tyapa, hoarsely. The 
Captain rose to his feet, yawned and stretched himself till 
all his bones cracked. % 

“Well, then! Go and give information. . .” | 
“JT will not go...tI1 do not like them,” said the 
Captain, morosely. | 

‘Well, then, wake up the Deacon. . . I shall go, at any rate.” 

SA %. 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“Allright! . .. Deacon, get up!” 

. The Captain. entered the dosshouse, aba stood at the 
teacher’s feet. The dead man lay at full length, his left 
hand on his breast, the right hand _ held as if ready to 
strike some one. 

The Captain thought that if the teacher got up now, he 
would be as tall as Paltara Taras. Then hesat by the side 
of the dead man and sighed, as he,remembered that they 
had lived together for the last thr do years. Tyapa entered 
holding his head like a goat which is ready to butt. 

He sat down quietly and seriously on the opposite side of 
the teacher’s body, looked into the dark, silent face, and 
began to sob. 

“Sq... heisdead ... I too shall die soon. . .” 

“Tt is quite time for that!” said the Captain, gloomily. 

“Tt is,’ Tyapa agreed. “You ought to die too... 
Anything is better than this... ” 

“But perhaps death might be worse? How do you 
know ?” 

“Té could not be worse. When you die you have only 


God to deal with ... but here you have to deal with 
‘men . . . and men—what are they ?” 


‘ 


bs 
‘ 
' 


“Tinough! . . . Be quiet!” interrupted Kuvalda, 
angrily. 
- And in the dawn, which filled the dosshouse, a solemn 
stillness reigned over all. Long and silently they sat at 
the feet of their dead companion, seldom looking at him, 
and both plunged in thought. Then Tapa asked : | 

“Will you bury him ?” 

85 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“TT? No, let the police bury him!” 
You took money from Vaviloff for this petition .. . 
[ will give you some if you have not enough.” . . . 

“Though I have his money . . . still I shall not bury 
him.” 

i That_is not right. You are robbing the dead. I will 

ther All that you want to keep his money.” . . . Tyapa 
threatened him. 

“You are a fool, you old devil!” said Kuvalda, con- 
temptuously. 

“Tam nota fool . . . but it is not right nor friendly.” 

“Fnough! Be off!” 

“How much money is there?” 

“Twenty-five roubles,” . . . said Kuyalda, absently. 

“So! ... You might gain a my note.” . 

“You old scoundrel! ...”’ And looking into Tyapa’s 
face the Captain swore. 

“Well, what? Give...” 

“Go to the Devil! . . . Iam going to spend this money 
in erecting a monument to him.” 

“ What does he want that for ?”’ 

“T will buy a stone and an anchor. I shall place the 
stone on the grass, and attach the anchor to it with a very 
heavy chain.”’ 

“Why? You are playing tricks .. .” 

“Well... It is no business of yours.” 

“Look out! I shall tell ...”’ again threatened 
Tyapa. 

Aristid Fomich looked at him sullenly and said nothing. 


56 ‘ei 











Creatures that once were Men “a 





Again they sat there in that silence which, in the presence 
of the dead, is so full of mystery. 

“Listen ... They are coming!” Tyapa got + Qos 
went out of the dosshouse. 

Then there appeared at the door the Doctor, the Police 
Inspector of the district, and the examining Magistrate or 
Coroner. All three came in turn, looked a e dead. 
teacher, and then went out, throwing suspicious glances at 
Kuvalda. He sat there, without taking any notice of them, 
until the Police Inspector asked him :¥ 

“Of what did he die?”’ | 

“Ask him. . .I think his evil life hastened his 
end.” 

“What?” asked the Coroner. 

“T say that he died of a disease to which he had not 
been accustomed .. .”’ 

“H’m, yes. Had he been ill long?” 

“Bring him over here, I cannot see him properly,’”’ said 
the Doctor 3 a melancholy tone. ‘“ Probably there are 
signs of . 

“ Now, ice ask someone here to carry him out!” the 
Police Inspector ordered Kuvalda. 

“Go and ask them yourself! He is not in my way 
here . . .” the Captain replied, indifferently. 

“Well!” .. . shouted the Inspector, making a ferocious 
face. 

“Phew!” answered Kuvalda, without moving from his 
place and gnashing his teeth restlessly. 

“s ‘The Devil take it!’’ shouted the Inspector, so madly 


A | 87 









Creatures that once were Men. 


that the blood rushed to his face. “Tl make you pay for 
this! [ll ” 

“Good morning, gentlemen!” said the merchant Petuni- 
koff, with a sweet smile, making his appearance in the 
doorway. | 

He looked round, trembled, took off his cap and crossed 
himself. Then a pompous, wicked smile crossed his face, 
and, looking at the Captain, he inquired respectfully : 

“What has happened? Has there been a murder 
here?” 

“Yes, something of that sort,” replied the Coroner. 

Petunikoff sighed deeply, crossed himself again, and 
spoke in an angry tone. 

“By God! It is just as I feared. It always ends in your 
having to come here... Ay, ay, ay! God save everyone. 
Times without number have | refused to lease this house to 
_ this man, and he has always won me over, and I was afraid. 
You know. .. They are such awful people. . . better 
give it them, I thought, or else . . .” 

He covered his face with his hands, tugged at his beard, 
and sighed again. 

“They are very dangerous men, and this man here is 
their leader . . . the attaman of the robbers.”’ 

“ But we will make him smart!’ promised the Inspector, 
looking at the Captain with revengeful eyes. | 
“Yes, brother, weare old friends of yours...” said 
Kuvalda in a familiartone. ‘ How many times have I paid 

you to be quiet?” 

“Gentlemen !”’ shouted the Inspector, “did you hear 

SS 











Creatures that once were Men. 


him? J want you to bear witness to this. Aha, I shall 
make short work of you, my friend, remember !” 

“Don’t count your chickens before they are hatched 
. . . my friend,” said Aristid Fomich. 

The Doctor, a young man with eye-glasses, looked at him 
curiously, the Coroner with an attention that boded him no 
good, Petunikoff with triumph, while the Inspector could 
hardly restrain himself from throwing himself upon him. 

The dark figure of Martyanoff appeared at the door of 
the dosshouse. He entered quietly, and stood behind 
Petunikoff, so that his chin was on a level with the mer- 
chant’s head. Behind him stood the Deacon, opening his 
small, swollen, red eyes. 

“Let us be doing something, gentlemen,” suggested the 
Doctor. Martyanoff made an awful grimace, and suddenly 
sneezed on Petunikoff’s head. The latter gave a yell, sat 
down hurriedly, and then jumped aside, almost knocking 
down the Inspector, into whose open arms he fell. 

“Do you see,” said the frightened merchant, pointing to 
Martyanoff, “do you see what kind of men they are ?”’ 

Kuvalda burst out laughing. The Doctor and the 
Coroner smiled too, and at the door of the dosshouse the 
group of figures was increasing . . . sleepy figures, with 
swollen faces, red, inflamed eyes, and dishevelled hair, 
staring rudely at the Doctor, the Coroner, and the In- 
spector. 

“ Where are you going?” said the policeman on guard at 
the door, catching hold of their tatters and pushing them 
aside. But he was one against many, and, without taking 


89 


Creatures that once were Men. 


any notice, they all entered and stood there, reeking of 
vodki, silent and evil-looking. 

Kuvalda glanced at them, then at the authorities, who 
were angry at the intrusion of these ragamuffins, and said, — 
smilingly, “Gentlemen, perhaps you would like to make 
the acquaintance of my lodgers and friends? Would you? 
But, whether you wish it or not, you will have to make 
their acquaintance sooner or later in the course of your 
duties.” 

The Doctor smiled in an embarrassed way. The Coroner 
pressed his lips together, and the Inspector saw that it was 
time to go. Therefore, he shouted : | 

‘“‘ Sideroff! Whistle! Tell them to bring a cart 
here.” 

“J will go,” said Petunikoff, coming forward from a 
corner. ‘ You had better take it away to-day, sir, I want 
to pull down this hole. Go away! or else I shall apply to 
the police!” | 

The policeman’s whistle echoed through the courtyard. 
At the door of the dosshouse its inhabitants stood in a 
group, yawning, and scratching themselves. 

“And so you do not wish to be introduced? That is 
rude of you!” laughed Aristid Fomich. 

Petunikoff took his purse from his pocket, took out two 
five-kopeck pieces, put them at the feet of the dead man, 
and crossed himself. 

‘God have mercy . . . on the burial of the sinful . . .” 

“What!” yelled the Captain, “you give for the burial? 
Take them away, I say, you scoundrel! How dare you give 


90 








Creatures that once were Men. 


your stolen kopecks for the burial of an honest man? I 
will tear you limb from limb!” 

“Your Honour!” cried the terrified merchant to the 
Inspector, seizing him by the elbow. The Doctor and the 
Coroner jumped aside. The Inspector shouted : 

*‘ Sideroff, come here !”’ 

“‘ The creatures that once were men”’ stood along the wall, 
looking and listening with an interest, which put new life 
into their broken-down bodies. | 

Kuvalda, shaking his fist at Petunikoff’s head, roared 
and rolled his eyes like a wild beast. 

“Scoundrel and thief! Take back your money! Dirty 
worm! Take it back, I say ... or else I shall cram it 
down your throat. . . . Take your five-kopeck pieces!” 

Petunikoff put out his trembling hand towards his mite, 
and protecting his head from Kuvalda’s fist with the other 
hand, said: 

“You are my witnesses, Sir Inspector, and you good 
people!” | 

“We are not good people, merchant!” said the voice of 
Abyedok, trembling with anger. 

The Inspector whistled impatiently, with his other hand 
protecting Petunikoff, who was stooping in front of him as 
if trying to enter his belly. 

“You dirty toad! I shall compel you to kiss the feet of 
the dead man. How would you like that?” And catching 
Petunikoff by the neck, Kuvalda hurled him against the door, 
as if he had been a cat. 

The ‘‘creatures that once were men” sprang aside quickly 


gti 


Creatures that once were Men. 


to let the merchant fall. And down he fell at their feet, 
crying wildly : : 

“Murder! Help! Murder!” 

Martyanoff slowly raised his foot, and brought it down 
heavily on the merchant’s head. Abyedok spat in his face 
with a grin. The merchant, creeping on all-fours, threw 
himself into the courtyard, at which everyone laughed. 
But by this time the two policemen had arrived, and point- 
ing to Kuvalda, the Inspector said, pompously : 

“‘ Arrest him, and bind him hand and foot!” | 

“You dare not! . . . I shall not run away. . . I will go 
wherever you wish, . .” said Kuvalda, freeing himself from 
the policemen at his side. | 3 

The “creatures that once were men” disappeared one 
after the other. A cart entered the yard. Some ragged 

wretches brought out the dead man’s body. 
“Il teach you! You just wait!” thundered the In- 
spector at Kuvalda. 

“How now, attaman?” asked Petunikoff, maliciously, 
excited and pleased at the sight of his enemy in bonds. 
“What, you fell into the trap? Eh? You just wait...” 

But Kuvalda was quiet now. He stood strangely straight 
and silent between the two policemen, watching the 
teacher’s body being placed in the cart. ‘The man who was 
holding the head of the corpse was very short, and could 
not manage to place it on the cart at the same time as the 
legs. For a moment the body hung as if it would fall to the 
ground, and hide itself beneath the earth, away from these 
‘foolish and wicked disturbers of its peace. 

92 


Creatures that once were Men. 


“Take him away!” ordered the Inspector, pointing to 

the Captain. 
- Kuvalda silently moved forward ithe protestation, 
passing the cart on which was the teacher's body. He 
bowed his head before it without looking. Martyanoff, with 
his strong face, followed him. The courtyard of the 
merchant Petunikoff emptied quickly. 

“Now then, go on!” called the driver, striking the 
horses with the whip. The cart moved off over the rough 
surface of the courtyard. The teacher was covered with a 
heap of rags, and his belly projected from beneath them. 
It seemed as if he were laughing quietly at the prospect of 
leaving the dosshouse, never, never to return. Petunikoff, 
who was following him with his eyes, crossed himself, and 
then began to shake the dust and rubbish off his clothes, 
and the more he shook himself the more pleased and self- 
satisfied did he feel. He saw the tall figure of Aristid 
Fomich Kuvalda, in a grey cap with a red band, with his 
arms bound behind his back, being led away. 

Petunikoff smiled the smile of the conqueror, and went 
back into the dosshouse, but suddenly he stopped and 
trembled. At the door facing him stood an old man with a 
stick in his hand and a large bag on his back, a horrible 
old man in rags and tatters, which covered his bony 
figure. He bent under the weight of his burden, and 
lowered his head on his breast, as if he wished to attack 
the merchant. 

“What are you? Who are you?” shouted Petunikoff. 

“A man...” he answered in a hoarse voice. This 


93 


Creatures that once were Men. 


hoarseness pleased and tranquillised Petunikoff, he even 
smiled. 

“Aman! And are there really men like you?” Step- 
ping aside he let the old man pass. He went, saying 


slowly : 
" Men are of various kind . . . as God wills. . . There 
are worse than me ... still worse ...-Yes. 


The cloudy sky hung silently over the ee vel and 
over the cleanly-dressed man with the pointed beard, who 
was walking about there, measuring distances with his 
‘steps and with his sharp eyes. On the roof of the old 
house a crow perched and croaked, thrusting its head now 
backwards, now forwards. In the lowering grey clouds, 
which hid the sky, there was something hard and merciless, 
as if they had gathered together to wash all the dirt off 
the face of this unfortunate, suffering, and sorrowful earth. 


THE END. 





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